The Abyss
by Johnclaw Dragonhelm
Summary: The Queen Zenobia may have gone up in smoke, but not everything perished as it should have. When one mercenary encounters something that survived, he becomes critical to the future of bio-terrorism. But with morals and humanity low on his list, the human race may be at risk of the revival of the T-Abyss... (Parallel story to Weary Wings)
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Welcome to "The Abyss." This fic starts in 2005, just after the events of the Queen Zenobia Incident, and in parallel with the event of "Weary Wings." As such, it focuses on some of the events that went on behind the scenes from RE4 to RE6 and the various games and movies that occurred between. This keeps with the theme of "Revelations" that this story borrow its characters from. While this story contains a character that has mutagenic powers, they will be significantly less in control of them than Manuela was in the other series. As a final note, the draft seen here is different from the preview due to a reworking of character. It will contain similar elements however. With that aside, enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

The attendant handing out paper looked at the man in front of her quizzically. At least, she thought it was a man The full body suit made it hard to tell, but the body shape seemed like a man. The other mercenaries on the boat were all manner of strange, with their own signature items and designs, but none like this guy.

Looking the man up and down, the attendant wondered where he had gotten his gear. His entire body was covered in a black wetsuit, highlighted with green, almost cybernetic looking designs on its surface. Like the rest of the mercs, he had been equipped with an amphibious rifle, but aside from that, he also seemed to have some form of katana on his back. The attendant almost laughed at the sight; probably some hot shot who thought having a katana made him cool. As if detecting what he was thinking, the man tilted his head judgmentally, pushing his outheld hands a little bit closer. With a nervous jump, the attendant realized he'd hesitated in giving the man his mission file.

With a muttered apology, the attendant handed it to the man, who took it before turning on point with a practiced motion, following the line in perfect step. _What a weirdo_ , the attendant thought. He pushed the image of the man out of his head as he handed the next file off.

* * *

CIPHER didn't hurry as he walked to a seat in the middle of the mess hall. No, he went at just the pace needed, though it was a bit faster than normal to make up for the time lost by the incompetent worker. Sitting down, he cast out his gaze, the visor across his face blocking anyone from seeing where he was looking, only able to see the thin green line across the middle of it.

The other people here were run on the mill mercs, he could tell. They'd been hired much the same as him, useful because of their anonymity and lack of ties to any power. None of them would be useful to him.

Turning his gaze to the mission file, he began reading the contents religiously. His long years of service had trained him to absorb the knowledge within a mission report quickly. It was imperative to remember as much as possible as quickly as possible. The gist of the mission was simple.

Once the boat was in place over the wreckage, the mercs would submerge simultaneously. Every merc or squad would head for a different entrance to the ship, in order to cover as much ground as possible. They would look for possible surviving samples of the virus left on the ship, whether that be dead or living infected, or contained samples.

CIPHER had to resist shaking his head in amusement. His U.B.C.S. work had trained him to know that whenever there was a virus involved, the people going after it were hardly in it for the benefit of humanity. The flimsy cover of it being a TerraSave mission fooled most of the mercs, but not him. He had worked with TerraSave once or twice, out of his old identity, and this was not their style. He had no doubt that the men and women aboard this ship were on someone's payroll. Who that was, CIPHER had no clue, and if he were being honest, he didn't care. This was a holdover mission. Something to tide him over between jobs of his choosing.

Still, there was something that smelled rotten here, and it wasn't just the fish. With a hidden smile, he decided he'd make a point to get as close to the root as possible without risking himself.

CIPHER's thoughts were interrupted by a gruff clearing of the voice beside him. He turned quickly, not out of fear, but out of strict attention to spot a burly, bear of a man towering over him. Judging from the way he looked at CIPHER and the seat, it was obvious what he wanted. A quick glance revealed that there were plenty of open seats. What this man wanted was to throw his weight around.

With a quick motion, CIPHER had slammed his elbow into the man's chest, stunning him. As the man buckled in surprise, he slammed his other elbow into the man's back twice, the first breaking his resistance, the second flooring him. Without saying anything else, he sat back down. It would get the point across. Speaking would only give them something to go on, if they were smart, which he doubted, but he knew better than to get cocky.

A pair of the man's thugs drug the man away, eying CIPHER suspiciously. If his days in the barracks were any experience, word would travel quickly around the groups about the incident and he'd earn a reputation. Not one that would threaten his job, he was sure, but enough to get anyone who would try to muscle him out of the way off his back. He was in this mission for himself, not anyone else. He would not hesitate to take out others if he could get away with it. More pay for himself.

The thing he was concerned about more was that there would invariably be people who would approach him, wanting to join up or deal with him. He had no interest in accepting anything less of meat shields. If they offered to join him on the dive, he'd accept, but first chance he got, they'd be fish food.

* * *

Just as he predicted, people did come with offers. Some were more prepared for it than others. One had been a rookie group, and he had shut them down before they even began speaking. He did eventually find a group, though that was a generous term for it. Their representative had explained their business situation to him.

In a nutshell, they were all independent mercs, but they all agreed that volume of fire was a useful thing. CIPHER had been drawn in by their unique tactic. They would enter from various angles in the ship, and proceed to gather as much loot as possible, since their contract allowed them to claim as much as they could carry so long as they retrieved a sample. His real attention had been peaked when the representative hinted that members of the group had a kill on sight rule against anyone not in the group. As the rep had put it: "More for the rest of us. Shame people have to die to those monsters, eh?"

Ultimately, it was the pragmatic view that dragged CIPHER into it. It was practically guaranteed to get them a larger profit margin. Even if someone didn't grab any loot, they provided valuable assets by killing other non-members or by providing security. Under the plan, each of them would make far more than was promised. But the best part for CIPHER was that he would only have to meet them once, just before diving so he could recognize them on sight when they went into the ship.

With CIPHER's acceptance, the rep told CIPHER where to meet, and promised that anyone in the group was under full confidentiality of their inclusion. No one wanted to get busted. CIPHER knew that if shit hit the fan underwater and one of them got pulled for the crime, they'd talk, but it would give him the drop on anyone else if they didn't know he had joined the coalition. CIPHER even had to give credit to the man; inviting CIPHER to punch him to make it look like he'd been rejected was callous even by CIPHER's standards. It hadn't stopped him from knocking the man over the table. Even as the rep walked away to get medical treatment, he could see the crooked smile the man tried to hide.

So, in preparation for the mission, CIPHER began his drills. In his spartan bunk, he began compulsively going through the routines they'd drilled into him back in the Raccoon City base. As his thoughts drifted back to those days, he remembered the destruction of the city, and the dissolution of the company. He'd been on mission when it happened, deep in the hills of the Baltic States, and it'd had been a perfect place to disappear. Since then, he'd done any job he could get, varying from working for the remaining cells of his old employers to public bodyguarding. He smiled as he remembered his last job working for a rich Japanese man. For his exemplary service in hunting down the man's enemies, he'd been rewarded richly and gifted with a katana as a mark of service. It would act as a way of gaining him entrance to certain places if he ever ran into one of the man's associates. And it was a damn good melee weapon.

After his physical routine, CIPHER began a gear check. Unzipping his gear back, he pulled out his scuba equipment. It had been custom made to his specs, and it was well worth the price he paid for it. While it featured the many straps of a usual scuba device, it also had separated air compartments, attached together by resilient pipes, making the whole thing capable of flexing significantly more than a standard pack. Mobility was something CIPHER prized highly, and it was what allowed him to win most fights. Underwater was no exception. The other thing he had acquired was a set of maneuverability enhancers, which ranged from small jet blasters to allow precise turning, to small but effective machines to assist his limb motion. All in all, it was a very interesting set of unique gear. Mentally, he reminded himself to make notes of how well it performed. His bargain had included that as a rule; information for reduced price.

Strapping it on, CIPHER tested his range of motion and found it to his liking. The pack wasn't too heavy for him, and it allowed him to reach his katana should he need it. He knew that a weapon like that wouldn't be that useful underwater, considering his slower speed, but it was nice to have as an option. For close encounters, he had a knife. As he clicked through his rifle, checking all its parts, he smiled, reassured that everything was ready for the mission.

* * *

The next day passed by uneventfully, though CIPHER could feel the tension amongst the other mercs during the mandatory equipment practice. Most of them were greenhorns from what he'd been able to gather. Seeing everyone gathered together on the deck, he had to forcefully restrain his sigh at the incompetence on display. Most of the people were struggling to put on their gear, either having trouble with the straps, or missing pieces all together.

 _Easy pickings_ , he told himself, his annoyance turning to amusement at the prospect. After swiftly equipping himself, he ran one last systems check before he walked over to the agreed location. With a quick sweep, he inspected the other people involved in the gig as he passed by, going to one of the tether lines, surreptitiously "checking" it.

There was the rep himself, a blond man of similar build to CIPHER. He wore a black and red wetsuit with wide glass goggles. Like CIPHER, he only carried the single rifle, strapped to his side on a strap CIPHER noticed bore a strange and, he suspected, hardly coincidental resemblance to the straps used by SWAT teams. Looking over the man once again, it made sense. _Probably went into the merc business to run teams on precision missions. Makes sense why he organized this thing. I should have recognized the SWAT tactics_ , CIPHER chastised himself for being so sloppy.

Another one of the members was a woman of well-muscled and lithe set. CIPHER had no shame in admitting that she was attractive. He had no doubts, however, that she was a fighter. Her brown hair was cut short, and kept back out of her face, which in and of itself told him she took combat seriously. Her shirt only came down to her ribs, and she wore cargo pants in a fashion that would not have been out of place in a movie. _Guerilla force maybe?_ Looking closer as he pulled at the cable, he noticed the multitude of knives on her belt. _Definitely guerilla_.

The only other person he bothered to notice out of the group was a man of average build, with slightly greying hair on his beard. His brown eyes carried a certain squint to them that CIPHER could tell wasn't age, but caution. Not for a single moment did the man's eyes leave CIPHER, nor his hand leave his gun. As CIPHER stared back, he felt a click in his mind, and his unseen mouth curled into a smile. Standing up, he walked over to the man and they began sizing each other up. The man had the advantage of strength and sheer brawn. Though he couldn't be sure, CIPHER guessed he was only slightly outclassing the man in brains, but well outstripped him in mobility.

"U.B.C.S." CIPHER said at last, offering his hand. The man took it firmly and they met gazes. "European division."

"African division," the man answered gruffly. "You there when it went up?"

"I was in the Baltics. Saw where the ship was going and jumped. You?"

"I was involved in "volunteer roundup" when it happened. No one around to know," he replied with a shrug. CIPHER nodded, understanding the subtext. Regarding the man, he tried to get a measure of him as an asset, whether he was friend or foe and he could tell the man was doing the same.

"Name's CIPHER."

"DOZER. Let me guess, reconnaissance? I was brute work." Cipher nodded, noting the man's penchant for observation. _Either a very useful ally or a dangerous enemy._ CIPHER had come across ex-Umbrella employees before. Only one of them had walked out of it. He couldn't have anyone ratting him out for amnesty or something equally trivial. This man however, was different. He was smarter and better than those grunts. A man after his own fashion.

The rep interrupted the air by gathering everyone together briefly. As he spoke, CIPHER's opinion that he was ex-SWAT cemented by the man's speaking patterns and planning. As he spoke, he handed each of the members a strange machine. It appeared to be a small submersible device. Demonstrating, he expanded a bag underneath it, explaining it was for storing loot off of one's person. The simple drones would follow the person they were keyed to, leaving them to have both hands free for other purposes. CIPHER accepted his quietly, planning already on checking the workings himself before going down. Soon enough, the plan had been explained and the group split, leaving only him and DOZER. The two men stared at one another, as if waiting to see who would leave first. This time, it was DOZER who spoke first.

"Ex-SWAT, right?"

"I gathered that from his strap first. It's a hard habit to ditch."

"The gal, what's your opinion on her?"

"Guerilla force of some kind. Lots of knives."

"Africa. Not a native, but she fought there a lot. The tans gave it away." DOZER lifted the strange machine they'd been given, waving it around carelessly. "Think it's bugged?"

If CIPHER could have quirked an eyebrow, he would have. Instead, he had to settle for a sarcastic tone. "Undoubtedly. I bet he's got a side job."

"Oh?" DOZER's tone told him that he suspected much the same. CIPHER debated how much of his hand to play.

"He might be trying to kill us. These might come equipped with some sort of shock device or something. Maybe just a beacon to tell him where we are, but it's certainly not in our interests," Cipher answered at length. He suspected the man was being hired to keep tabs on the more...promising, candidates amongst them, either for hiring or targeting. DOZER nodded laconically,

"Hadn't thought of the beacon part. Well, I guess I'll see you at dinner," he said shortly, turning on point easily. CIPHER did the same, resolving to get as much mileage out of the man as he could.

* * *

CIPHER attended dinner, though with reluctance. He had an appointment to keep after all. It had been a while since he had felt the need to talk to someone as bad as he did to DOZER. He had spent pretty much the entire day dissecting the machine, finding several suspect pieces inside that most people would have missed. After copying the schematics onto a napkin, he had left his room, putting the removed pieces in various locations out of the way as he went.

In his hand, he held the one piece he was sure that DOZER would miss. It was a small camera that had been cleverly hidden in one of the mechanisms that was exposed to the water. No doubt for recording them. It was quite clever, he had to admit. It sent the data remotely, removing the need to store it on the device. When he had discovered it, he had turned the device down so it faced the floor before covering it with cloth and removing it, power source included, as it ran on a remote battery. To all but the most scrutinous observers, it would seem he had just turned it down and left it there.

Carefully, he slipped the device into his pocket, storing it for leverage. Drawing as little suspicion as possible, CIPHER grabbed an MRE and sat in the middle of the room, taking a table surrounded by other people. It would reduce suspicion and any conversation could be lost in the crowd.

DOZER arrived a short while later, sitting beside him, carrying an MRE as well. Both men sat quietly, picking at their meals for a minute. "Can't unlearn a habit can ya?"

"They're efficient," CIPHER pointed out, playing along.

"True, but they taste pretty bad. Still, quick to make, quick to eat."

"You should really clean up after yourself," CIPHER noted, grabbing a napkin from the table dispenser. Sneakily, he added his own napkin to the one he was holding and handed it to DOZER. The man looked at him carefully, but CIPHER just went back to eating.

From the corner of his eye, CIPHER could see DOZER inspect the design quickly before folding it in half and wiping his mouth on it. _Clever. The outer layer will hold for a while in case we need to discuss it, but the oil will soak through by the time anyone else bothers to check_.

"I think you missed a spot yourself," DOZER pointed out, handing a napkin to CIPHER. Thanking the man, he checked the napkin, and sure enough, a schematic was drawn on it. CIPHER frowned behind his mask as he noticed several areas he had missed, seemingly back up systems. CIPHER smiled as he realized DOZER had missed the camera. Setting the napkin aside, the two men ate in silence for a minute.

During that time, CIPHER wondered how much he should trust the other man. He had no doubts that he had also killed coworkers. It was practically policy. But at the same time, CIPHER felt no threat from this man, and at long last, CIPHER put his hand on the table, the cloth hidden underneath. The motion did not go unnoticed, and DOZER looked at him questioningly.

"Check the auxiliary port on the device. It has a tendency to get clogged from what I can tell," CIPHER hinted. If this man was half as smart as CIPHER thought he was, he would find it off of that. If not...all the more reason to kill him. DOZER nodded, and the two separated after that. Cipher spent the rest of the evening deactivating the systems he had missed before retiring to bed. Tomorrow, it would all pay off.

* * *

The strange sound of water flowing about one's head was something CIPHER couldn't explain, but it was somehow comforting as the sound of the waves died into a dull pounding on his ears. As the water rushed around him, he primed himself, contorting to tighten his body properly, submerging quickly.

Through his visor, he could see the other members of the crew diving as well, all in various poses. Some were head down, rocketing downwards, others were still on the surface. At a distance he caught sight of DOZER, and CIPHER gave him a thumbs up, which was returned. He could also see the Rep and Guerilla, as he'd taken to calling them, on opposite ends of the ring of people.

CIPHER looked down into the darkness, wondering whether to go down or not. Their technical mission statement had said simultaneous, but he doubted they really meant it. Glancing at the others, he saw they had begun to descend and decided to do the same himself. Turning down, he used a combination of his weights and his own musculature to descend. _The sooner we get down, the more we can grab_ , he noted.

As he swam, CIPHER unclipped the strange device and allowed it to activate. Its motors whirred to life as it began to follow him down into the darkness, and the overwhelming silence began to encroach on him. Strangely, it didn't bother him. He preferred the silence; it meant stealth. While things were quiet, he was in control.

His visor allowed him to see clearly as they descended, but a glance up and around told him that others had other methods of seeing. Lights could be seen in the distance, showing where someone wore a body mounted device, and he could see the circle somewhat keeping shape until the lights faded in the murk. Soon, he arrived at the checkpoint, where submerged air tanks had been left, hovering in the darkness with only red lights to mark their presence. Looking around, CIPHER realized he was the first one down, and smirked as he grabbed the buoy he was by. Holding it with one hand, he grabbed the carrying device with the other, flicking on its motion mode. The device began to pull him in the direction he pointed it, and he began dragging it off into the darkness, out of visual range of the supposed location. With it out of the way, it would eliminate some potential competition without needing to waste ammo, and without too much suspicion on him.

Waiting for his body to adjust, CIPHER began running over the plan in his mind. He'd grab high value, low weight objects, like silverware and other things that others would miss. Of course, anything particularly valuable would be his. If he found another group, he'd pretend to ignore them, then follow them, looking for a chance to lure a B.O.W. to them, both to accomplish the ultimate goal, and to eliminate the competition.

The radio crackled and CIPHER listened intently as Rep spoke. "We've hit stage 1 boys. Status?"

"I dragged one of the buoys from its designated location. That should send back at least a couple," CIPHER reported. He swore he could hear a chuckle on the other end.

"Eager to outshine us?" Rep asked. CIPHER remained quiet as he waited for the other reports. DOZER simply confirmed that he had reached the checkpoint. Guerilla also affirmed she had reached the point. The fact that she responded similar to DOZER set of warning bells in CIPHER's mind. Immediately, he placed her mentally on his threat list. She was too professional. Someone like that would undoubtedly cause trouble.

Immediately, he knew engaging her at close range would be futile. People didn't carry those many knives without the skill to use them. Tapping his rifle reassuredly, CIPHER began the dive towards the vessel, easily ahead of everyone else while still being careful about pressure.

It was luck that the ship sank where it did. They had only needed one staging point, making it a relatively quick task to get down to the boat. If he could whistle in his suit, he would have. The wreck was magnificent.

It had quite obviously been a cruiseliner, but the amount of damage done to it, especially the front, had been catastrophic. The entire front of it had been caved in, revealing open metal and unsealed rooms. In the dark, he could see swift forms moving about, and he knew better than to think them simple fish. Nothing was safe near a biohazard site.

Unstrapping his rifle, CIPHER proceeded cautiously in a wide berth, spotting where a window had been cracked. Making his way to it, he kept his guard up until he was safely inside. One through, he inspected the room, finding it to be some kind of passenger bedroom. Tearing off a decaying bedsheet, he hung it over the window. A visual barrier would be enough to deter all but the most thorough searchers, while also providing him an easy way out of the room should he return there. The room had nothing of interest in it, so he cautiously proceeded to the door. He found that it opened with a surprising amount of ease for its location.

Swimming into the hall, he quickly cleared his sight lines, establishing that there was nothing worth worrying about. Carefully, he took his combat knife and marked the wall with a small cross, to note he had been here. Considering the size of the ship, it would help to establish a general idea of where he was going.

Looking both ways, he decided that the dining hall would be further back, and so he swam away from the bow, down the dark, murky corridor. He didn't make the mistake of looking solely ahead, making sure to glance back as well. It was slow going, even with the device.

It wasn't long before he entered into what appeared to be some kind of vestibule, and immediately, he brought the door close, peering only just barely around the edge. He knew better than to get into open spaces when there could be creatures about. Glancing around, he spotted the dining hall door to his right at the end of the hall. He continued watching for a time and was about to exit when a door opened on the other side. Quickly, he ducked behind a wall, only just peering around.

It was the group of rookies who approached him first. CIPHER smirked evilly as he realized they would be consumed quickly. Waiting patiently, he watched as the swam into the center of the room, looking around wildly, as if sight seeing. It wasn't long before the first B.O.W. showed up.

It came from what had once been a skylight. The strangely humanoid figure swam with a wormlike motion, as if devoid of bones. A strange set of teeth replaced the thing's lower face and it had a grey, blubbery appearance that made it seem almost shark-like. To his grand surprise, one of the men noticed it immediately, and opened fire, the bullets piercing through it, causing it to pause in the water as it died, going limp. The men rejoiced, but CIPHER knew it was just the beginning.

As the infected blood began to waft from the body, he knew it was only a matter of time before something picked it up. His suspicions came true as a mass of dark figures burst out from the vents, swiftly surrounding the corpse. Some flew passed his head from a vent nearby, though they ignored him in his stillness. The forms appeared to be horrific fish, which swarmed about the corpse, reducing it to nothing. The men began firing in surprise, taking a few of the things out, but there were just too many to deal with and they were soon swarmed, their screams fading as the rebreathers were ripped from them and water filled their lungs. CIPHER decided to take advantage of the situation and made a break for the dining room via the shadows. Flitting from pillar to pillar, he made it to the safety of the doors, taking care to seal them behind him. Before he closed them, he could see the remains of an outstretched hand floating serenely through the waters beside the shoal.

Turning, CIPHER smiled wickedly as he beheld the dining hall. Swimming to the nearest table, he grabbed one of the pieces of china, satisfied to find that it was indeed quite valuable. Happily, he began loading the pieces into the drone, skirting the tables for cover just in case anyone else arrived.

Halfway through his job, CIPHER heard the groan of a door and quickly slipped under a table, cramming in beside a body that hovered ominously beside him. Being so close to death didn't bother him; the possibility of something living finding him did. Peering out with his night vision, he caught sight of a light scanning the room, though he couldn't see its source. Patiently, he waited as the light swept around, growing more focused until he could see the figure. It was Guerilla. CIPHER smiled at his luck.

Unslinging his rifle, he waited in the darkness as she began to inspect the tables. Bracing for the recoil, he lined up the sights for her head. Her eyes widened with realization as she beheld one of the empty tables moments before the bullet pierced her brain, causing her whole body to rapidly jerk back, only to slow down, almost gracefully flipping back as bits of brain floated away from her body. Satisfied with the kill, he almost swam out to grab her loot when a terrifying screech reverberated through the hall.

"Where are youuuu?" CIPHER hissed in a breath at the strangely clear voice that emanated from somewhere above him. Keeping the skirt of the table low, he peered out to see something had approached the body of Guerilla. It appeared vaguely humanoid, but he could only tell so much from this angle.

What he could see was that it appeared to have originally been a blond woman in some form of black wetsuit. What had been her right hand had spread into a claw that almost resembled coral in its texturing. About her legs, strange, disc like growths reminded CIPHER of the coral that grew on cliff faces, but more streamlined. Where the woman's feet were, there were strange, curled appendages that seemed to flare like hands, propelling her with great control. As she circled Guerilla's corpse, other features became more obvious. Her entire torso was wrapped in black tentacles that seemed fused to her skin, gleaming with an almost armour-like quality to them. Her hair seemed to have fused into her face, obscuring some of her original features.

Suddenly, her head split in half, and a strange tube like mouth extended from the depths within, clasping onto Guerilla. Pulsating rhythmically, CIPHER's eyes widened as he realized it was drinking her blood. He dared not move, even going so far as to shut off the drone, just in case it made any noise she might detect. CIPHER watched with patience as she sucked the body dry. A tranquil moment seemed to come over her as she retracted the mouth, sealing her head back up. That moment shattered when she began to tear viciously into the corpse, tearing it to bloodless shreds. Even stranger, she seemed to tear it apart for no reason other than anger, as she left the body alone otherwise, not even eating a single bit. CIPHER thought that maybe now that her blood lust was sated, she'd leave.

"I know you're here...come on out and play…" she called hysterically and CIPHER refrained from cursing. _Does it really know I'm here, or is it just repeating the last thoughts? In either case, this thing is dangerous._

CIPHER tried waiting patiently, but she seemed determined to find him. As she began searching, he became convinced that she knew he was here. Even worse, he suspected it was because she realized the kind of wound Guerilla had suffered, along with its freshness. When she began searching under the tables, he knew he had to make his move. As soon as she ducked under a table, he bolted out of cover, heading for the chandelier high above. When the thing came back out, it took her a moment to spot him, but when she did, she shrieked loudly.

"FOUND YOU!" she roared, charging towards CIPHER. He crossed his lucky stars as he rounded about the chandelier, putting it between her and him. She lunged trying to get him, but found that the grandiose and elegant chandelier prevented her from getting to him. Not wasting the opportunity, CIPHER began firing, centering his shots on her head, hoping the damn things acted like zombies.

The thing shrieked, guarding its head before circling around. CIPHER had to dodge through the chandelier, nearly catching a claw in the process. All it would take was a little tear and he was dead, suffering slowly as his suit filled with water. CIPHER cursed as the bullets did little to dissuade her. If anything, she seemed to get more aggravated, speeding up her attacks. Soon, CIPHER ran out of shots in his cartridge, and quickly drew his katana, feeling the disc on his hand grip the hilt.

As she came in for the kill, he activated the trigger, and the disc rotated quickly, spinning the katana faster than he could manage underwater. The blade sliced through the water, and CIPHER hoped that it would do something to stop her. He silently rejoiced as the blade sliced across her arms, cutting deeply.

"IT HURTS!" the thing screeched, knocking him back with one hand before clutching her injured limb. CIPHER took quick advantage of the opportunity, hurriedly reloading his weapon before firing into the ceiling. With a groan and a spray of dust, the section of the ceiling supporting the chandelier gave way and it began to fall slowly, but it picked up speed as gravity won over the water. Soon enough, it rammed into her, driving her down into the floor, where she impacted a table, which splintered under their combined force. Even from the distance he was at, CIPHER could see she had been pierced through in several places, and she went still.

CIPHER knew better than to trust appearances however, and so he approached her with caution, gun aimed at her. Approaching her side, he fired a couple of shots into her head, causing her to shriek and shake viciously, refusing to die. CIPHER backed up as she swung. It did her no good though, as she only got more and more tangled in the chandelier, soon becoming completely immobile.

CIPHER briefly considered leaving her behind when he remembered the promise of reward for live specimens. Smiling to himself, he grabbed the chain of the chandelier, pulling it up. As he suspected, she was hopelessly caught, the various growths on her body having gotten stuck in the chains. She still struggled a little though, and he thought himself lucky to have managed what he had. Carefully, he attached the end of the chain to the drone, testing to make sure it could handle the weight. To his surprise, it managed just fine. Happy with the results, he quickly looted the rest of the room before packing it in the drone, filling it to capacity.

 _Now just to get back for the reward_ , he thought with a satisfied smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

CIPHER sat cross legged on a stack of crates in the cargo hold. Only a few hours earlier, he had been confidently returning to the surface, dragging his prize behind him along with a near fortune in terms of salvaged possessions. The specimen had been handed over to the scientists aboard, and his payment had been handed over, no questions asked. He had even deigned to share a celebratory meal of MRE's with DOZER, leaving the man a way to contact him should he decide to work together with someone.

He had been more than annoyed when he couldn't get to sleep that night. No images of death haunted him, no regrets or mistakes. Only questions. Questions about the thing he'd drug back to the ship. It behaved so unlike any B.O.W. he had ever encountered. The words she spoke haunted him more than any amount of desperate pleading that had fallen on his deaf ears. It was the sound of an intelligent hunter, not a weak prey.

In the dead of the night, he had made his way to the cargo hold, where he had heard they had taken the thing. The scientists had been confused about his request to see the thing, but had ultimately approved his request. Thus, he sat in near to the cage, watching the thing with a neutral expression, trying to figure out what had drawn him back. Repeatedly, he tried to tell himself he was studying it, preparing for if he ever had to fight something like it.

Yet he knew that was incorrect. He had enough time in the water to know enough that he would have the upper hand in the future. Even a few minutes with it would have been enough for him to figure out quite a bit about it. Despite his careful observations, there were many things he didn't understand about the creature.

As he sat, watching it, it also sat, positioned like a crying woman in the center of the cage, its malformed legs splayed to the sides. Its head hung, though the hair was cemented to the body, creating a slightly surreal sense to its appearance. Its hands were brought close to its chest, pressed against the tough chitin there. Idly, the claws traced the human side of the thing's face, rarely straying.

One of the claws barely touched the strange carapace that covered the thing's body and it flew into a frenzy in the blink of an eye. The first time it had done so, CIPHER had been rightly surprised, going for his rifle. The thing had done it a few times however, so now he just twitched slightly when it happened.

The thing threw its arms around, as if striking at some invisible attacker. After losing balance, its legs drew together, planting its feet down. From there, it stood up with a boneless curl, drawing up to its full height. With a spine-crawling crack, its head split and the fleshy tube extended from the dark depths, teeth wriggling as the length pulsed. Flailing about, it threw itself at the bars, creating a horrific noise, screeching at the top of its lungs, or gills, whichever it had.

What disturbed CIPHER was the words that crept between each horrifying screech. Phrases like "Found you, it hurts," or "play with me." He'd heard of B.O.W.'s chanting the same phrases over and over, but that wasn't the limit of her utterances. More interestingly, it kept muttering the name "Raymond" in its calmer moments. He'd only barely overheard it, and only confirmed it when it shouted it at one point, demanding to know where this "Raymond" was.

Something didn't sit right with CIPHER about it. He'd seen the intelligence with which it had deduced his presence in the ship. The fact that it'd ripped Guerilla apart for no adequate reason wasn't enough on its own to make him suspect anything, but with everything else, he had to believe it was due to some kind of emotion. And the idea that somewhere in there was a sentient being was disturbing to him on a level he couldn't explain.

He'd seen many men cross the point of no return to this kind of thing. He had felt nothing when plugging a bullet into their skulls. It was just business. Once infected, they were just monsters, things in his way. He'd expect the same if he was infected. There was no higher reason in there, no driving thought, just animalistic hunger. On the other hand, he'd killed plenty of thinking people, but they were always in control of their actions. It was always them versus him.

It wasn't the case with this thing. He would have no trouble killing it if it threatened him, but it clearly was struggling internally. Whatever shred of sentience was left within the thing was being strangled by the dominance of the virus, choking out any sign of the individual within, except for her desperate screams through the veil. CIPHER shook his head; he was getting poetic.

It was then he noticed a scientist approaching him, papers in hand. CIPHER briefly wanted the man to leave, but thought better of it. If he came bearing any info on the creature or the woman within, he wanted to know. It would help him figure things out.

"CIPHER, I presume?" the man inquired nervously, looking him up and down. CIPHER nodded silently, slightly impatient. The man nodded to himself, mustering courage. "We managed to find some more information on your quarry here. You displayed an interest, so we thought we might give you this file to look at. If you notice anything, please inform us."

CIPHER accepted the file silently, and the scientist hurried away. Shaking his head again, he flipped open the file. The first thing his eyes landed on was the name, and he wished he hadn't. Names made everything harder. Rachael Foley.

Sighing in resignation, he started to read through the file. She had been a low level agent in the FBC, having joined for personal reasons. She seemed to steer clear of risky assignments, preferring to work with survivors and others who posed no threat to her. CIPHER sighed in disappointment. She was a coward.

Continuing on, he read about her fear about going onboard the ship into an active BioHazard zone. He frowned as he came across the name of her partner, Raymond Vester. _Must be the one she keeps talking about_. The official mission report was that they were to ready the ship for disposal to keep the BioHazard from threatening anyone. The Post-Mission reports by other agents revealed it had been a ploy to flush a high level politician out as a supporter of a terrorist cell. Her partner had been a secret agent in the effort, and had pursued his mission at the expense of her. CIPHER read the passage a few times, mulling over it. It sounded suspiciously like something he'd do. This Raymond fellow seemed to have his priorities straight. Still, the result before him was something not quite right. He didn't think Raymond should have helped her, but maybe put her down.

Flipping through the pages, he read about her personal history. A sister who worked in TerraSave. _Guess helping people's their thing_. Early promise in her career, only to decline as she failed to truly distinguish herself in the field. Particular marks for her use with high caliber weaponry, but it made her unsuited for stealth missions. Few other notes caught his attention, but he took time to commit them to memory as best as possible.

Closing the file, he briefly considered destroying it, but knew it would be noticed. Instead, he set it aside, deciding to check on it later. Instead, he looked up, observing the woman. Since he had started reading, she had moved up to the bars, and CIPHER was glad the bars were so tight, as she was pressing against them, her flesh warping unnaturally in an attempt to worm between them. Her thinner arm had snaked between the bars, appearing to have dislocated at the shoulder. The remains of her delicate hand skimmed across the floor, moving slowly, snake-like.

CIPHER stepped closer cautiously, noticing her tense in readiness as he approached. If he had to guess, she probably had a bit more reach than she seemed to present. Finally, he came to a stop out of her reach before crouching down, looking closely at the woman. "Hey, you in there?"

The woman didn't respond, continuing to snake her arm out, fingers moving like sea slugs in their slow search for sensory input. CIPHER watched the motions for a moment. He was half tempted to touch her hand, but he knew that would be her chance to grab him.

"Can you hear me?" he tried again, growing frustrated with the lack of sentience she seemed to display. _Perhaps I misjudged her intelligence_ , he thought, growing annoyed and bored. A thought came to him.

Pulling up the bottom of his mask, he spoke softly, allowing his voice to come out naturally, instead of being filtered through his breathing system. "Rachael?"

That got her attention. Her wanderings ceased and Rachael grew still. Her fingers went limp, and her hand touched the floor. Tilting his head, CIPHER could see her face, tilting to try and find the source of her name. Amidst the blood and hardened formations, her face had gone soft, almost human. Her mouth opened silently, and she seemed to try and speak, but only soft sounds seemed to escape her.

Finally, her body seemed to line up with her mind. "Ray...mond?"

CIPHER shook his head, though she couldn't see it. "No. CIPHER."

CIPHER stepped back as she screeched in anger, lashing at him. He had expected that kind of response. Rachael reached forward with her clawed hand, swinging wildly, her claws marking the floor as she scraped off layers of paint and metal, all to no effect. For a moment, he thought she might calm down, but she seemed contented to rage on. Her rage nulled her to pain as she dug her claws into the metal, trying to pull herself out, despite the obvious pressure it was causing to her body.

Watching for a moment, CIPHER waited to see if she'd somehow manage to extricate herself from the cell, but as he watched, he became convinced there was no way for her to get out. Having seen enough to satisfy his curiosity, he decided to head back to his bunk.

* * *

The next day CIPHER was not the least bit surprised to hear they were being redeployed into the ship. From what he'd been able to gather, no one had managed to find a pure sample of the virus yet, and given the secretive nature of their employers, he had no doubt they'd be pushed heavily towards going to the science decks to try and find a sample.

CIPHER's mind was unusually muddled as he dove into the water. He found himself unable to focus as much as usual, and while it didn't slow him down, it did annoy him. Diving through the staging areas at breakneck speed, he tried to force himself to focus on the mission.

Arriving at his previous entry, CIPHER once again entered the stagnant ruins of the ship. A brief check told him no one had bothered his staging area, though if everyone was headed down to the labs, he doubted they'd find it anyway. As he deployed the carrying device, he conjured up the map of the ship in his brain. Slowly, he worked down the halls in his brain, trying to avoid large rooms. He paused partway through when he recognized a room he'd seen in the file on Rachael.

The room where she died. According to Agent Valentine's report, that had been the room where she'd witnessed Rachael meet her human demise. A strange desire to visit the room crept into his mind. He thought about ignoring it, but he knew it would just keep nagging him if he didn't. _Besides, Agent Valentine made it to the labs from there, so there must be a quick way around there_.

Adjusting his mental course, CIPHER began skulking through the dark hallways. The green line of his visor gave him an almost ominous appearance in the near midnight blackness of the hall as it turned, looking at his surroundings carefully. Cautiously, he clenched his rifle, waiting for something to appear, but he encountered nothing. _Where the hell is everything?_

As far as he knew, most of the people were entering on the north end of the ship, where a large hole had been taken out of the front of it. From reports, that's where the creature referred to as Malacoda had attacked, leaving a convenient entry to the ship's innards. CIPHER supposed it made sense he was being left alone. Most of the creatures in the ship would be hunting where the major mass of lifeforms were. He would have laughed at the thought of the newbies getting shredded if he could.

Remembering the fact he still had his radio, he reached up to click it on. "Testing, testing. DOZER, you there?"

A few moments of static rang in CIPHER's ear before the gruff voice answered. "DOZER here. Not dead yet?"

CIPHER's smile crooked evilly. "Not quite. You with the main team?"

DOZER guffawed on the other end, and CIPHER could almost hear the eye roll. "Did you really think I'd be that stupid? They're on a suicide mission. No, I'm nearby them though, just in case anything good pops up. They take the hits, I take the target."

"How are the other teams managing?" DOZER didn't answer immediately, causing CIPHER to pause, waiting.

"Some of them have disappeared without a trace. No sign of battles or anything, not even a loose respirator. All of the attacks have taken place in wide open areas, like promenade decks and lobbies. All members were eliminated quickly and efficiently. And before you ask, no, I didn't do it. If I had, I wouldn't have told you."

CIPHER nodded, even though DOZER couldn't see it. The news was very disturbing. He knew it was the fault of some kind of creature, but none of them were strong enough to take on a whole group of people without leaving a trace. None of them were smart enough to dispose of evidence, excepting perhaps Rachael. Which left only one explanation.

"They were eaten. Remember the Grave Diggers? When they attacked, there was usually very little evidence left of the attack because they consumed it all. The only thing the T-Abyss virus has made capable of doing that is a Malacoda worm. Somewhere on this ship is one or more of those worms."

"So? It'll get rid of the competition easier so long as we avoid it…"

"We need to kill it," CIPHER interrupted. "That thing came from an infected whale. If it infects another whale, it can reproduce and infect more whales. I don't think I need to show you the pictures of what that results in."

The line was silent for a moment. "Damn it. Alright, what do we need?"

"I have my rifle and sword. If needed, I can use it to hold onto the thing's side. What do you have?"

"Aside from my rifle, I have a few shock grenades. Sounds like we're taking this thing out the hard way. How do you want to do this?"

"You know where the eastern med bay is?" DOZER grunted in acknowledgement. "We'll go there. It's small and well sealed, as well as close to the region where the Malacoda hunts. We can talk tactics there. Try not to kill anyone on your way there. We need as many distractions as possible."

DOZER grunted again, the line going quiet as both men focused on their tasks. CIPHER focused on moving quickly, planning on reaching the med bay before DOZER. He wanted time to investigate Rachael's last rest on his own. Moving through the halls, he felt anxious, watching for a potential attack. Taking on the Malacoda by himself would be a losing battle, and while he could damage it, he had no intention of dying to it.

Opening a door, CIPHER paused as he saw the med bay ahead of him. At the end of the hall was a cracked window, bent outwards from the force of some impact. The room within was in a state of disarray, even by sinking ship standards. Approaching the glass, he could see better. To his surprise, he could see the corpses of two of the aquatic monsters, well and truly dead from being ripped apart. Their blubbery corpses hung in the air, entrails surrounding them like some kind of disturbed jellyfish. Particular damage had been done to their heads, which appeared to be missing entirely.

CIPHER was very tempted to turn around and leave the grotesque sight but he pushed himself forward. Opening the door, he swam inside, keeping it unlocked so he could escape if necessary. Looking around, he tried to get a better view of everything.

Passed the floating corpses, he could see a very plain bloodstain running down from the glass to the floor, where it had pooled and stained. The room's seal had prevented it from filling fast enough to wash it away, but not enough to prevent it from filling with water. Swimming towards the spot, he inspected it closer, and found several gouges in the metal, randomly assorted and haphazard. Slowly, he pieced together an image in his head of Rachael's body lying there after impacting the window. Remembering how she looked now, he figured the gouges were caused when she mutated. Now that he was close to the walls, he could see that the room had been brutalized on every square inch of metal. Claw marks covered every bit the room, and the vents in had been smashed flat.

 _She was angry. Somewhere in there, she remembered just enough to hate this room...The corpses seem old_ , he noticed. Swimming closer, he inspected what little of them remained. He noticed several bullet holes and a few pistol rounds still lodged in the entrails. _They were dead before she got to them. They wouldn't have much blood left in them before she ripped them apart. These must have been the ones that attacked her, taken out by Agent Valentine_.

Turning to look out the window, a small bit of white caught his attention underneath an overturned medical gurney. Swimming close, he realized it was a small book, likely some form of log if the lined paper was any indication. Carefully, he lifted the gurney, surprised to find it in relatively good condition. Many of the pages had been waterlogged beyond recognition, but he could make out a few words on some of the pages, particularly ones that had been blood-spattered. _This is like those books they found on the Titanic. The blood must have helped seal some of it in when it crusted over_.

Careful not to move too quickly, CIPHER reached into the pouch of the drone, retrieving a storage box. He had brought it along this time in case he found an intact sample, but for now, it would serve to hold the diary. Sealing it tight, he activated the pumps on the sides, draining out the water. _That'll give it time to dry out_.

Just as he slipped the box back into the pouch, DOZER opened the door at the end of the hall. Through his goggles, DOZER gave an interested expression at the sight of the room before swimming to the door. "What happened in there? Looks like an animal got loose and had run of the place for a few months."

"That's about what happened. But that's not why we're here. We need to plan how to take on the Malacoda."

"Is this lab safe?"

"Don't worry. None of the other mutations are going to come near here," CIPHER assured, leaving his reasoning at that. "What areas did the Malacoda hit?"

"As far as I know, it hit the observation deck, the promenade deck, and the forward engine rooms."

"The Malacoda could have easily hit the observation deck from the promenade by going up the elevator. Agent Valentine's report suggested that the observation deck was damaged by the Draghignazzo."

"The what? Who names these things?"

"It's a devil from Dante's _Divine Comedy_. Because the T-Abyss was created by Il Veltro, it made sense. That doesn't matter though, because it's dead. It damaged the observation deck, which is probably where the Malacoda entered. The question is how it got to the forward engine rooms. The halls there aren't big enough to allow it to travel through."

"Could it travel down a straight hall? Both sides of the ship have long, straight halls that attach to the promenade deck."

"I imagine it could. That explains how it got to the front of the ship, but not how it got in the engine rooms. What areas are exposed from the massive hole in the front of the ship?"

"Some of the lower decks are open in a few places, but we didn't check them last time we entered."

"I'd be willing to bet that's how the Malacoda gets in. Those decks are at just the right level to be the labs. I'll be the Malacoda is using the elevators to move through the levels. The engine rooms themselves are rather large, but the passages to them are small. Additionally, any people scavenging would logically use elevator shafts to travel between floors, leaving them at risk of encountering the Malacoda."

"So that explains how it gets around and how to find it, but how do we kill it?" DOZER asked impatiently.

"We need to get to the engine rooms. We'll be able to attack the Malacoda from the thinner connecting halls while still being able to find it. If necessary, we can also retreat to the promenade deck while it travels the other way around and lay a trap for it." CIPHER swam towards the door, checking his weapon. "As for killing it, we look for a weak spot and unload everything we have into it."

DOZER scoffed with a dark look. "So we're going in with a threadbare plan?"

"Let's hope it's full."

* * *

The first real challenge in their path was swimming through the promenade deck. No matter how they approached, they would have to cross the Malacoda's hunting grounds to get to the engine rooms. The promenade deck was the closest area and the easiest to cross. They also reasoned that since the Malacoda had likely attacked there first, it would be less likely to be attacked again.

Still, as the two men peered through the door, they clutched their guns tightly. CIPHER went first, following the short wall that edged the floor. Their dark suits made them practically fade into the shadows. Every few yards, one of them would peer cautiously over the top, just to make sure nothing was there. A few Oozes swam around the lower levels, but otherwise it was relatively uninhabited. At one point, CIPHER could see the shattered base of the elevator, proving his theory.

Both men breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the door to the engineering corridors. Slipping into the passage, DOZER made sure it was clear before CIPHER closed the door. "Alright, I'll take point."

DOZER nodded in confirmation as CIPHER swam ahead of him. "Keep your eyes peeled. We can still run into Sea Creepers and Oozes. If you see either of them, aim for their heads. Just like the normal T-Virus, that's where they're weak."

Silently, the two glided through the halls, clearing each corridor with cold, effective focus. Soon enough, they came to the main block of engine rooms. CIPHER positioned himself beside the door, opening it slightly. He frowned as he beheld the relatively open space of the room, along with its destruction. It left very little in terms of cover for the pair to use in a straight up fight, and he doubted the Malacoda would stick around if it couldn't easily reach them.

"I don't see anything, we should take up a position somewhere in here before trying to attract its attention."

"You didn't say anything about trying to attract it! I thought we were going to ambush it!" DOZER exclaimed angrily.

"Every minute we wait, the more chances it has to find a way out into the ocean. It's a miracle it hasn't already escaped," CIPHER retorted coolly, slipping into the room. DOZER followed reluctantly. The pair looked around. "There's a fallen beam there. If we can throw that down the shaft, that should be enough to stir it."

"There's also a few pipes we can hide behind. Should slow it down," DOZER noted, testing one of the hiding places. He was able to fit easily behind the parallel pipes while still able to fire out. CIPHER noted another such section of pipes across the room from DOZER, as well as the catwalks above and below them, giving them plenty of tight maneuvering places.

"Alright. Give me a hand with this beam." Together, the two men struggled, moving the beam slowly towards the open elevator shaft. With a final shove, it tilted over the edge, slowly falling into the abyss. Without waiting any longer, they broke for their cover, getting behind the pipes as one end of the beam hit the metal wall, creating a loud, reverberating bang that seemed to echo through the ship. The two shared a glance. Despite not being able to see each other well at their distance, they both knew the other was as focused as they were.

Answering the bang was a roar that made CIPHER's bones rattle. The very water seemed to vibrate as something moved far below them. The roar echoed off the walls, sounding like a ferocious whale call. The very volume of it made it feel like the water had increased in weight, conspiring to crush them. CIPHER shrugged off the ominous feeling, sighting his rifle on the elevator shaft.

He had only a moment to react as the monster burst forth, spinning into the room, its lithe body moving in a hypnotizing flurry of motion. Immediately, he and DOZER let loose, firing at the monster. It startled, flailing out its tail to smash one of the catwalks. As it turned towards him, CIPHER got his first personal look at the thing.

Its massive body was roughly textured, and twisted upon itself to allow it to remain in the space with them. It seemed almost segmented, with each bit growing only slightly thinner than the last. Its head was a spherical white mass almost devoid of features. The mouth hung off it, tube-like, lined with rows of teeth across the visible insides.

The creature noticed CIPHER first and charged with surprising speed for its massive size. CIPHER rolled to one side as it rammed headfirst into the pipes, denting them severely. Cursing, CIPHER fired at the exposed head. The thing reeled back away from the pain. "Shoot the head!"

"Understood!" DOZER aimed carefully, trying to aim for the head without hitting CIPHER in the process. While neither was usually averse to the expenditure of team-mates for their own personal ease, it would make the fight a hell of a lot harder without the other.

The Malacoda turned towards DOZER, ramming his cover, while slapping CIPHER's with its tail. The motion caused the pipes to be dislodged, and CIPHER was thrown aside through the doorway, which he only managed to grab hold of. Swimming back in, he could see the pipes had bent onto DOZER, trapping him inside. Luckily, his pipes were in the corner, which made it hard for the Malacoda to reach him, but CIPHER knew it was just a matter of time.

He knew he would regret it, but CIPHER swam as fast as he could manage towards the Malacoda, dodging passed its body before pulling up behind its head. As the thing struggled with its mouth to grab DOZER, it failed to notice him. Unsheathing his sword, he clamped it tightly before driving it into the thing's head. The machinery assisted grip saved him as the thing flicked back its head.

CIPHER could feel pain spark through his body as he clung on, the force of the swing brutalizing him. Luckily, the Malacoda flailed in the open space, preventing him from getting crushed. Focusing intently, he grabbed his rifle with his off hand, pressing the barrel into the thing's head before unleashing his full clip into its head. The thing reeled again, bashing him into the wall, where his sword finally was shaken from its flesh. CIPHER groaned as he floated slowly downwards, only regaining motion in time to slide under one of the catwalks before Malacoda rushed passed where he been floating previously, back down to the elevator shaft.

"We have to go after it," CIPHER commanded.

"I'm not going anywhere for a bit," DOZER commented, and CIPHER turned as he remembered. Swimming over to his comrade, CIPHER noted grimly that he was well and truly stuck. The pipe had bent over his hips, trapping him in place, and judging by DOZER's pained grunts, not painlessly. "You go after it. I can free myself in a bit. Take my grenades."

CIPHER nodded, grabbing the grenades from the larger man's belt. "Once you're free, head down the shaft. I'll need as much support as possible."

"Loud and clear. Now kick its ass so I don't have to."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Reaching the bottom of the shaft, CIPHER inspected the dented metal walls around him. The Malacoda had definitely retreated down to the lowest floor. Ahead of him, an equally battered hallway ended in a misshapen doorway, the door slowly floating down from where it had been rammed off its hinges. The room beyond was obscured by the filthy murk that made the ship loom oppressively over intruders.

Checking his rifle, CIPHER realized glumly that he had little in terms of leverage against the Malacoda. Even if every one of his shots hit a vital organ, it wouldn't stop the thing. With every passing moment, it regained strength. He needed to be able to do massive damage in a short period of time.

Sliding beside the doorway, he leaned slowly around, surprised at the room that lay beyond. It appeared to be a devastated lab, laid out with a central area ringed with a circular walk that hugged the outer wall of the round room. Smashed tubes marked former storage containers for bio-organic weapons. More worryingly though, the walls of the room seemed to have been predominantly made of glass, housing a large tank surrounding the room. And now the glass was shattered, turning the whole room into an aquatic killzone.

Spotting a close container, CIPHER swam silently behind it. A feeling of recognition surfaced in his mind as he observed the shattered lab. Suddenly, he realized what it reminded him of: an Umbrella lab.

It was laid out almost exactly the same as several of the facilities he'd been assigned to protect or infiltrate on several occasions. Armed with the new knowledge, he began trying to dig up as much useful information as he could remember.

His eyes settled on a murk covered panel not far from him. Glancing around the corner, he caught a brief glimpse of the Malacoda's shadow in the gloom on the other end of the room. It wasn't in his vision for long before it disappeared into the outer chamber's waters, beyond the range he could see it.

Realizing he wouldn't get a much better chance, CIPHER swam quickly to the panel, brushing it off with his gloved hand. To his surprise, he uncovered the letterings of "Laser Grid Control Panel." A sadistic smile crossed his lips as he remembered the times he'd interacted with these things before.

Umbrella had always been ahead in terms of security. Dealing in such shady business as they did, it was a necessity. If any information got out, it would require expenditures to cover up, and it was a simple investment to lose a few lives in exchange for a few thousand dollars. Other companies would have made the lasers non-deadly, simply tripping off an alarm, but not Umbrella.

Elements of the room became obvious now that he knew what he was looking for. Along the walls, almost hidden in grime, he could see recessed tracks, with the projectors barely poking out from the muck. A plan began to form in his head, but just before he could take stock of the nearest recess, he saw movement off to the side. Though he could tell it wasn't the Malacoda from its size, he still wasn't risking anything.

Through the murk, he could make out the approaching form of a Scarmiglione. The sharklike predator was swimming above the channel between the inner and outer platforms. For a moment, CIPHER was confident that he would be passed by, but he quickly realized that its motions were too focused, too intent, and far too aimed towards his hiding place to be incidental.

CIPHER's mind raced as the Scarmiglione approached, swiping its pointed head back and forth smoothly, the motions becoming smaller each sweep as it detected him. Cursing, he realized that it must have inherited the shark's electromagnetic reception ability.

He knew better than to fight the thing. He needed to save his bullets, and any cuts would only serve to sever the thing, assuming he even got close enough to use his sword. He remembered the description of the Scarmiglione's strange ability to exist as two separate parts. Deciding against such a dangerous course of action, he glanced around, spotting an askew doorframe. It was just wide enough that, with a push, he could jet towards it, slipping through the space.

Tensing, he did just that. As the tip of the Scarmiglione's spear came into vision, he pushed off hard, feeling the water resist his motion. Luckily, his lithe frame made him resist less, allowing him to jet forward easily. His hip tapped against the door, and he flicked his legs in just as the Scarmiglione clawed at him.

Looking around, CIPHER found himself inside a small side lab. To his great relief, it appeared to be sealed tight, unlike the main one. Still, the banging on the door was all he needed to know the last defense would soon come down. Working quickly, he spotted another door, and swam for it.

His lucky streak continued, and he was able to get into the room beyond. It was a thin hall that CIPHER could tell was a decontamination didn't even pause, simply heading through to the next door. He was both relieved and frustrated to find that its rotary system worked still, allowing the door to move automatically.

By the time the Scarmiglione made it into the first room, he was already gone. On the wall, he found what he was looking for; the override switch. Peering back through the door, he could see the Scarmiglione approaching. Once it crossed the threshold, he hit the button, and the doors began shutting. The thing rushed forward, jamming its claw into the doorway. CIPHER was ready, and activated his dynamos, slicing off the end of the claw. The Scarmiglione drew back in pain, and the door shut.

CIPHER didn't rest, instead, he swam up to the only other door of the room. Any more time spent looking around would be wasted. Gripping tightly, he was able to pull the door wide enough to slip into the main room.

As soon as he was through, CIPHER scanned the room. The absence of the Malacoda was worrying him, but he needed to get into position. Sailing to the nearest track, he began quickly wiping away the muck with both hands. His gun wouldn't help him much in any case, so it made more sense to clear it as quickly as possible.

Soon, a few of the lasers had been cleaned enough that CIPHER figured they could work. Suddenly, the Malacoda emerged above him, and could became good enough. Spotting the panel right next to him, Cipher unslung his rifle, firing into the Malacoda's sensitive head.

With a horrific screech, it wrapped around, trying to spot him. Now that he'd gotten its attention, he ripped open the panel, hand on the button. He knew he'd have to stun it in order to have a chance of hitting it enough to kill it.

Unslinging the grenades, he tossed them forward, using the dynamos to add some distance to his toss. As the beast opened its maw, it swallowed the grenades easily. A moment before the same jaws reached him, the grenades went off, flashing so brilliantly it momentarily blinded CIPHER. All he could do was roll to the side and blindly jam the button. He heard the horrifically painful screech of the Malacoda as its body was cut into dozens of uneven bits, its struggling only damaging it more. At the same time, he felt one of the lasers graze his leg, making him nearly lose consciousness.

Sinking to the platform, CIPHER clutched his leg, trying to apply enough pressure to both stop the bleeding and prevent his suit from filling with water. Around him, scattered bits of Malacoda floated down, tossing up enough murk that he could barely see. Even through the murk, though, he could see the laser grids, preventing any escape even if he managed to not bleed out.

Grunting in a fresh wave of pain, he desperately looked for a way out, trying to steady his breath. Running through his air supply was not in his interests. Feeling an odd shape on his side, he remembered the storage device from earlier and its propulsion function.

 _Even when he's dead he's useful_ , CIPHER thought to himself with a grim mental chuckle. Bringing it close to his injury, he was able to flick the switch with his thumb without losing too much pressure. The motors surged to life and it began to drag him away. To his relief, he realized he could duck into the lower channels to avoid the lasers, and was soon headed back up the shaft.

Even as he reached the top, he could tell he was fast fading. The last sight he had was of DOZER's bulky form over him, gun gripped tightly. Up until darkness consumed him, only the brilliant blue of the man's goggles could be seen…

* * *

CIPHER was out of the medical ward by the early morning of the next day. After learning he had slept through the evening and night, he figured he'd lost enough time. The first thing he did was get his suit; he was never comfortable without it.

After that, he found DOZER. The larger man was sitting in the cafeteria, staring fixedly at his food. CIPHER sat across from him silently. For a time, neither of them spoke at all.

"I'm not sure whether to demand your share or call it even," DOZER commented at last, biting into his steak viciously.

CIPHER nodded, his smile hidden by his suit. He allowed another moment to pass in silence as DOZER paused to hear his response. He wasn't looking to be thanked.

"I have a better offer."

"It better be a damned good one. Hell, I could have come out of that as the man who not only gets all the pay, but took on a Malacoda single-handedly. So tell me what this better offer is."

"Obviously you didn't kill me for a reason."

"You're a damned good agent. I'm not sure how you killed it, but I sure as hell heard you kill it. Be a shame to lose someone as skilled as you."

"I wouldn't have gotten out of there if you hadn't allowed me."

"And what a good samaritan I am," DOZER retorted drily. "Remind me why I did that."

"Because we work better together. We work excellently alone, and we'd only be slowed down by rookies. But as a unit, we're stronger than they could ever hope to be."

"You're right about that," DOZER commented drifting off in thought. He had a piece of steak speared on his fork, and he regarded it with ponderance. "Bought time I moved beyond lone work. Always more demand for more men. Still doing merc work?"

"Mostly. But I do need your help with something."

"Jeez, you could at least take me out for dinner and a film first before getting to the point," DOZER jested. His voice, however, showed resolve. CIPHER stood, motioning for DOZER to follow him.

"So what are we doing?" DOZER wondered aloud, following behind CIPHER. He didn't reply, simply bringing them deeper into the depths of the ship. Soon, they were in the cargo hold. Rounding the last of the crates, the cage containing Rachael came into view. At the moment, she was pressed against the bars, watching the two of them with curiosity.

DOZER walked towards the cage, though he still kept space between him and it. Slowly, he paced around the cage, his heavy footfalls not even garnering the slightest attention. Rachael's stared unflinchingly at CIPHER.

"This the thing you drug up on the first mission?"

CIPHER nodded his head, but remained silent. DOZER knelt down, inspecting her carefully. After a moment, he pointed towards her and continued speaking.

"From what I've seen, the mutation pattern is pretty consistent in these things. But she looks different, so there has to be something up with her." Pausing, his eyes scanned her body, not with lust, but focus. "FBC eh? So this must be Agent Foley…"

DOZER noticed CIPHER's slightly surprised jerk and laughed gruffly. "Don't think you're the only former Umbrella employee who keeps up on the news. Details matter. So what are the details here? I see that she looks different, but that could just be due to her being a secondary infection."

"That's what I was thinking about. It can't be a viral resistance. If she had resisted, she'd have become a Scagdead, not this. But here's the strangest part. She's still partially aware."

"Wait you mean, like "thinking?"" DOZER asked, surprise blatant in his voice. He whipped his head back towards Rachael. "Jesus Christ...really?"

CIPHER leaned forward, looking dead at Rachael, who seemed to notice the attention. "Rachael, do you remember who I am?"

Rachael seemed to think for a moment, tilting her head unnaturally. Slowly, the seam along her head opened and her strange mouth extended slightly, as if she were licking her lips nervously. A gurgling came from within the depths as she tried to vocalize. DOZER shifted uncomfortably as the moments ticked on and the sounds began to resemble speech.

"CI...PHER...not...Ray...mond," she answered at last, her mouth retracting. A moment of silence passed as she watched for a reaction.

"Shit! What the hell kind of thing is this? They never talked before. They moaned, maybe repeated a word or two before having their heads blown up but never spoke! What the hell is…?!"

"Going on? I don't know. You're right, they never did this before. Something about her is special and I don't know what."

"Who cares? Let's jump this ship and go somewhere else. I am not dealing with this." DOZER moved to leave, but CIPHER grabbed his arm tightly.

"YOU are NOT going ANYWHERE," he hissed menacingly. "You don't see the big picture here. Now sit down and let me explain it to you."

CIPHER let go of DOZER's arm, and the larger man angrily sat on one of the crates. "Now I'm no humanitarian, but even I can tell you this is a bad thing. Do you remember the news from a few months ago?"

"About Manuela Hidalgo? Yeah, I heard it. She's supposed to be some kind of miracle of science or something. Bonded with the virus."

"Exactly. Now, I'm not sure about you, but after that, I got more job offers for hunting B.O.W.'s than in my entire career at Umbrella. Everyone wants them to be able to make the new Manuela Hidalgo, only with their virus and their soldiers. Why do you think this mission was arranged? A big sunken ship with boatloads of t-Abyss virus on it?"

"They want it to make soldiers," DOZER realized, lapsing into silence.

"Exactly. And if they realize that she has any potential of gaining back her sentience, they'll not stop."

"Wait, you mean they don't know?"

"As far as I know, I'm the only one she has said anything new to. The rest of the time, she just screeches the same lines repeatedly. The point is, we need to stop this before that happens."

"And how do you propose we do that genius?"

"First, we load her into a boat. Between the two of us, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. After that, we tamper with the black box, leaving a false terrorist message. Because this is a cover, they'll be unlikely to keep any easy records of our involvement, and electronic files will be hard to recover, so we can have the fact we were aboard hidden for a time."

"Because they don't want anyone to know who they hired, they won't know we were aboard unless the sponsor releases the information, which could implicate them," DOZER realized aloud.

CIPHER nodded and continued. "From there, we detonate the ship, eliminating all witnesses using the boat. Then we head to Europe."

"I'm all for a plan that involved exploding things, but why Europe?"

"Simple. The surveillance in America is too tight. We wouldn't be able to come within radar range of the shores without being picked up and questioned. And we wouldn't be heading to main Europe. Somewhere in the Baltics most likely. The countries are so close together that they don't tend to question what appear to be commercial fishing vessels. At the same time, there's an ongoing series of civil wars, so we won' be out of a job."

The two were silent for a minute, mulling the idea over. Eventually, DOZER looked at Rachael. "And what do we do with her? Why are we taking her with us?"

"She survived a cruise ship exploding. Do you really think we can risk her surviving a small ship exploding? The only way we can be sure that she won't fall into the wrong hands is to take her with us."

"So wrong hands have to take her from wrong hands? Man, I never thought I'd have to play the good guy," DOZER chuckled.

"Besides, if we can get her back to some level of consciousness, it could be...interesting." CIPHER hung the potential idea out, but kept his cards close to his chest. He wasn't about to let onto his thoughts.

"I'm not sure what you're thinking, but you had me at the part where we blew up a ship of mercenaries. When do we begin?"

"Tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

CIPHER took a moment to admire the C4 in his hand. It had been a while since he'd dealt with the precision explosives, but there was always a dangerous thrill when they found their way into his hands.

DOZER and him had spent the day quickly scanning out the ship, figuring the best layout to maximize destruction. It hadn't taken long to get the C4 at all. Not only did many of the mercs carry it, but there were plenty stocked for the salvage as well. Between the two of them, they had more than enough C4 to take the ship out. Didn't stop them from taking more than they needed. _Never look unrecorded C4 in the mouth_.

Sticking the last of the required pieces in place, he turned to focus on his half of the task. DOZER had located the ship most likely to get them to the mainland. It was stable enough, and lightly guarded. DOZER had radioed in already, notifying him that he had already taken care of the guards, silently.

Now was time for the hard part; getting Rachael to the boat. Silently, CIPHER opened one of the doors, slipping into the bowels of the ship. He stepped carefully, making sure to reduce his noise, lest someone catch him in the act.

Sliding up to the doorway to the cargo hold, he peered through the porthole. Just beside the door, he could see a guard. Carefully, CIPHER slipped out a knife from his belt, and in one motion, had opened the door and slit the man's throat. He didn't even have time to react to the opened door before death caught him. CIPHER quickly grabbed his body, preventing him from hitting the floor.

Carefully, CIPHER dragged the man's body to the side, tilting him to reduce the amount of blood he spilt. Prying open a crate, he stuffed the body within, just in case anyone came to check on him.

With similar precision, he dispatched the other guards, leaving no witnesses. With more time, CIPHER had no doubt the pair of them could have taken everyone out, but it wasn't about people. It was about evidence.

Soon, CIPHER found himself in front of Rachael's cage. The woman was within, standing for the first time since CIPHER had seen her. With a shiver, he realized she must realize what was going on, and was waiting. CIPHER lowered his gun, approaching the cage. Rachael didn't move at all, simply staring at him sightlessly.

"It's time," CIPHER commented. He knew there was no point in pleasantries. He had already stolen the chains meant to keep her contained until they were able to get a cage, or something to contain her in. Unslinging them, he approached closer, judging her reaction.

A small spasm of her arm made CIPHER pause. With each passing moment, she seemed to get worse. Suddenly, she tried to claw at him, but grabbed her arm with her other hand, restraining herself. She doubled over in pain, screeching horribly.

CIPHER wasted no time taking advantage of the rare moment of semi-control. He had already locked the doors to the cargo hold, so unless she found a way to break through the walls, she was trapped in the same room as him. He opened the door wide, chains out in front of him.

The limits of Rachael's control were tested as he stepped closer. One of her claws swished by his face. Had he been less trained, it probably would have left a mark, but instead, he was able to get one of the segments around her arm. Using his momentum, he slid behind her, quickly wrapping her other arm as well. The act seemed to release whatever control Rachael had and she screeched as she leaned forward, picking him up on her back in an attempt to get him to let go.

CIPHER merely grunted, holding tightly to the chains. He managed to get a good angle after one particularly vicious flail, allowing him to use her leg as a kick off. The combination of his kick to her leg, and the following slam into her back, caused Rachael to lose her footing and crash down on the ground face first. Wasting no time, CIPHER pulled the chains tighter, securing her arms behind her before reaching back to grab her legs. With a small smile, he remembered the time he had been trained to hogtie someone in the Umbrella Corp training camps; he just thought he'd never use it.

It was much harder than he anticipated, much easier than he feared, but in the end, he managed to get her tied up tightly. Even with her enhanced strength and increased limberness, she wasn't able to escape. Even so, he wasn't going to take any risks.

Locating a large crate, CIPHER opened the top, smiling as he saw the packing peanuts within. They would work to help stifle her shrieking when he transported her out. He wasn't sure how much sound she's make, but it wouldn't help to stir up a mess

Cautiously, he picked Rachael up, grunting at the weight of both her mutated form and the chains. She had gone surprisingly still, similar to when she had gotten caught in the chandelier. He briefly wondered why she seemed to stop when tangled before focusing on the mission at hand. Settling her within, he replaced the lid, sealing it back up. Using his blade, he poked a few holes, just in case she needed air or something.

Abandoning the crate for a moment, he looked for the dolly he had seen earlier. Realizing the difficulty in transporting all the weight they had to in one sitting, the pair had made sure that some form of loading device was available. After finding one in the mess hall, they had surreptitiously relocated it to the cargo room, hidden amongst some crates. All the other dollies were locked up in staff rooms, and it would only serve to add an extra level of danger to risk the chance of electronic locks or sensors if they attempted to invade them.

Finding the dolly, he shifted the crates off of it. Driving it back over the the crate, he managed to slide the large box onto the dolly, making sure to secure it with the loading straps so that Rachael couldn't cause the box to fall off by struggling within.

Satisfied at his work, CIPHER sketched out the path to the loading zone in his mind. Larger objects could be brought between floors either by ramps or the elevators. Most of the crew used the elevators, but he knew those would set off a record of some kind, therefore he made note of the ramps. _Just another benefit to making boats cater to the disabled_.

The rest of his mission was simple, as he just had to walk down one of the less used halls to the side of the ship, where he and DOZER would unload the cargo into the boat. Still, he kept his pistol in hand, even while pushing the cart. Reaching the top of the first ramp, he checked the hallway quickly, proceeding along. A deckhand made the mistake of rounding the corner, and took a silenced pistol shot to the head for his troubles.

Opening the last door, CIPHER found himself by the boat, just in time to see DOZER dumping the last of the men over the edge of the ship. The man dusted his hand before turning, spotting CIPHER immediately. His shoulders fell and he groaned. "I thought I'd have at least a minute to just relax before you came up."

CIPHER laughed internally as he pushed the dolly to the edge, unclasping the straps. DOZER moved into position opposite of him, silently counting down. With a grunt, both men lifted the crate, transferring it to the vessel. Slowly, they maneuvered it into the hold, where it would be out of sight.

DOZER leaned back after they set it down. "So, the black box?"

"Correct, but this is the hard part. The helm will be more guarded, so we need to take it by force, secure it for enough time to leave the message, and then make it back to the boat without dying."

"Sounds like our kind of mission," DOZER said with a laugh. "Tell me I get to use explosives."

* * *

CIPHER watched the man's head roll, flicking his katana to remove the blood. Later, he would clean it methodically to make sure it wouldn't wear.

"Damn. I need to get me one of those," DOZER commented, watching with morbid fascination as the body slumped over after a few seconds of free-standing. Stepping over the body, he looted the man's weapons before continuing.

"We're almost at the door. Once there, it'll be a standard breach. I'll go for the console, you go for the other door. Once we've sealed the door, you take position watching our escape, got it?"

"Understood. Use grenades if necessary, but not in the room," DOZER repeated. CIPHER nodded and the two moved silently into position beside the door. Gripping their rifles tightly, they met gazes. CIPHER held up a hand, counting down silently.

Hitting the bottom of the count, he grabbed the handle, quickly opening the door and sliding in. With amazing speed, he moved close to the ground, already headed towards the console as his rifle blazed at an angle, catching the crew inside unaware. He was able to get a couple of reliable headshots before they started moving.

DOZER, meanwhile, had slid the other way, taking position beside a cabinet, as his large size meant he needed cover should anyone get a shot off. Still, his shots were just as effective, killing the captain and his deckhand. In moments, everyone in the room aside from them was dead. Just to be sure, they each unloaded a couple of rounds into each body they passed getting into position.

CIPHER didn't say anything as he approached the console. Anything they said had a chance to be picked up by the black box, and they needed all the anonymity they could get. Quickly, he shot the protective panel's bolts with his rifle, kicking it in. DOZER meanwhile was applied some heat to the other door's lock, sealing it tight. Even so, he moved the cabinet into position in front of it to prevent anyone from easily forcing through it as well as making it harder to shoot through the porthole. Kicking up the table in the middle of the room, he took position behind it, his gun trained on the other door.

Quickly, CIPHER found the black box. With his access to it assured, he backed out of the workings, unclipping a flash grenade from his belt, though he didn't use it. Instead, he pressed a button on the console, broadcasting.

Focusing on his voice, he focused on emulating a russian accent. It wasn't hard, considering the amount of time he spent working in the Baltics, but it had been a while. "We have taken this ship for the Motherland. Know that we will not be stopped until the world is bathed in the t-virus. We will not rest."

The message was pre-planned. Just specific enough to give the agencies something to look for, just vague enough to make it plausible. Had they picked a specific agency, they would have had to fake the modus operandi, and that would have caused problems.

CIPHER didn't give it a second thought as he tossed the flash grenade in, having modified it to make more of the explosion noise than normal. Shutting off his visor for a moment, he waited until he felt the detonation to cut the cords within. The last thing any recovers would hear would be the detonation, though that was yet to come.

Still, CIPHER was silent as he motioned for DOZER to move. As they reached the door, the alarm went off. It was more time than they thought they'd have, but it was still a sign they'd been found. Stealth no longer an option, the two burst from the helm room, facing down either direction of the hall.

Seeing it was clear, they began running at a dead sprint down the hall, CIPHER taking point while DOZER checked their flank now and again. Both men had their rifles at the ready.

Turning, they saw an elevator partway down the hall open, and were ready as the guards came out. Without hesitation, the pair aimed their guns, mowing the group down. In a bit of a pinch, DOZER unclipped a grenade from his belt, letting the pin fall in the process. The canister landed amongst the injured or dead men as the pair continued running. By the time they reached the next corner, any survivors were taken care of.

DOZER kicked open the door and CIPHER rushed forward, leaping over the railing down to the boat. He didn't waste time before taking up position beside one of the winches. DOZER barely landed before he moved to the other one, and they pulled the levers as DOZER steadied himself.

The boat dropped into the water, and the two jumped after it, landing on the uneven surface with a roll. The impact hurt a little more given the boat's more violent rocking, but it still wouldn't cause lasting injuries. Standing quickly, they aimed their guns back at the ship, in case anyone had followed them.

"Get us out of here!" DOZER commanded, not looking away from his iron sights. CIPHER nodded, heading into the helm. Throwing the throttle, the boat jerked away from the ship. Quickly, CIPHER began gaining distance from the boat. Looking over his shoulder, he watched the ship, mentally counting down.

"You ready?"

"I've been waiting all night for this," DOZER retorted, holding his detonator up into the air, his thumb hovering above it.

"Three! Two! One!" CIPHER pulled out his own detonator, gazing at the ship. There was always a moment where time seemed to slow down, where you could almost imagine every bit of the explosion. He just wished he could see their faces when it all went up in smoke.

In an instant, both of their thumbs clicked down. Only a moment later, the explosives went off, blasting several large holes in the ship. The precise explosives caused a small amount of fire to belch out from each angle before quickly dissipating. Still, the brief burst would have been enough to kill a great number of people.

But not everyone.

CIPHER brought the ship about slowly, unslinging his rifle. He reached over to open the window on the helm, aiming his rifle out. Outside, he could see DOZER, who had taken up position near the edge of the deck, gun aimed into the darkness. The flashlight was off, but both of them could see well enough in the darkness owing to their goggles.

A flash of motion snapped him back to focus and he whipped the angle of his rifle towards the spot, firing a quick spray. Instantly, the form stopped moving, collapsing to the deck in a spray of blood.

"You got the first one, I'll give you that," DOZER said with a sadistic laugh. His aim snapped off to the side, gunning down another fleeing occupant before they even realized he was seen. DOZER topped his rifle up, watching the ship. "The thing's not sinking as fast as I'd like it to…"

CIPHER nodded, watching the ship submerge slowly. It was indeed going down slower than he'd like. The people still alive inside would likely have time to escape, though it didn't matter.

After all, they had all night.

* * *

"I think that's the last one," DOZER said confidently, stepping away from the railing. Just in front of him in the water, a man lay face down in the water, his blood radiating out from him in a cloud.

All around the boat, scattered bits of wreckage floated; signs of the ship's disintegration during the night. DOZER and CIPHER's fears about the slow sinking of the ship had been allayed when it had splintered into several pieces, taking many with it during the collapse.

That hadn't killed all of them of course, so they kept looking. Some people were hanging onto bits of the ship, while others were free-floating. Whatever their situation, they all ended up the same way before long. At one point, the pair had been surprised to see a lifeboat come into view. They used one of the remaining C4's on it.

By the dawn's light, those few left had learned to fear the sound of a boat, and hunting the living amongst the dead became harder, but if there was anything that could be said about the pair, they were patient. They spent the entire night picking through the flotsam, ending those still alive in it.

CIPHER nodded as he sat down. The adrenaline had long worn off, and now he was just tired. Still, they had a mission to do, and he wasn't going to be anywhere near the wreckage when it was found.

"I'll take first shift," DOZER volunteered, strutting into the helm. He pre-empted CIPHER's question, by saying, "You have to go cage the beast. I doubt she'll listen to me at all. And since you're down there, you get first nap. See you in a few hours."

CIPHER couldn't argue with his logic, so he went below deck, where they had stored Rachael's container. The interior of the ship they had commandeered was spacious, and stocked with various scientific devices that CIPHER only knew the rough monetary value of. In the few spare moments of conversation the two had above deck during the night, they theorized that it was meant to be a research vessel for the operation, serving as a second command base in case anything was needed. As such, it was stocked with ways of managing specimens as well. Various tubes lined the walls, but CIPHER doubted they'd hold an alert and angry specimen.

His focus was more on the reinforced cage in the center. It seemed to be a strange composite of designs that took up most of width it occupied, while also running from floor to ceiling. The outer layer was thickened metal, reinforced by beams in several places. Through the portholes, she could see an inner cage made of bars that still allowed the caged individual a small range of motion. He guessed that the space between the layers was for closer experimentation, as well as to prevent the creature from striking at the glass.

Testing the lock, he found that it reacted easily to human input, hissing open. Grabbing one end of the box, he began dragging it over, and he could feel Rachael begin to wake up within. She had been relatively quiet throughout the night, only occasionally screaming gibberish when the noise of the outside reached her.

Dragging the crate into the inner cage, he propped it against the wall, angled so he could pop the latches from the middle layer and step out quickly. With one foot outside the door, he flicked the latch. By the time the latch released, he was already on the other side, watching behind the safety of the glass.

He watched with morbid interest as her sharp fingers slid into the light through the crack of the lid, pushing aside the unsecured edge. With headway made, her arm easily snaked out and down, where a flick of her claws undid the other clasp. The front of the case fell off, and the packing peanuts poured out. Equally boneless, Rachael flopped out, throwing out her arms to the side at the last moment to stop her fall.

Slowly, she seemed to look around, as if trying to gauge the situation she was in. Reaching out slowly, she began tracing the edges of her cage, climbing over everything that she could, even hanging from the top of the inner bars. CIPHER was briefly reminded of some of the B.O.W.'s he'd seen before his abandonment of Umbrella, though he couldn't recall which ones.

The important thing was that she didn't seem to be able to escape the inner cage. While she could stretch an arm through, she seemed unable to force herself through the gaps between the bars, even as she tried hard. Instead, she once again fell into despondic silence in the center of the cage.

"Hungry…" she growled, a certain tiredness in her voice. Looking closer, CIPHER could see that she was indeed in worse shape than when he had first seen her. Her skin was darker and drier looking and she seemed even more dishevelled compared to normal. Even more concerning, it seemed that she could hardly support her own weight.

CIPHER headed back upstairs, noting with relief that they hadn't actually gotten underway yet. He knocked on the helm door, causing DOZER to turn in surprise from his work. "Hey, we need to go find one of the fresh bodies."

"Why are we doing that?" DOZER inquired suspiciously. "I thought we weren't taking any risks."

"It's to feed Rachael. She's not in a good way."

"And why should we care? If she dies of hunger, all the better. Then we don't have to deal with her and we can get out of all this."

"And what if she decides it's better to break out and hunt us? Even in her weakened state, she's highly resistant. It's better to keep her satisfied now." Even CIPHER himself had to admit it was a paper thin lie. In all honesty, he had no idea why we was defending her; DOZER did have a point. She was a danger to them, and hunger may well have been the only way to safely dispose of her. CIPHER almost found it ironic; the regenerative factor of the virus required her to consume blood to keep her going, but it would also destroy her.

DOZER stood silent for a moment, crossing his arms in thought. At long last he let his head hang back in defeat. "Fine. But should she break out, I will use you as a distraction to kill her. And if you live, I will personally beat you to death with my own bare hands, got it?"

"Loud and clear. Now let's get going."

DOZER nodded, taking the helm. Turning the ship about, he began piloting back towards the wreckage. CIPHER took a post near the window, peering out across the water. Soon, he managed to spot the shirt of one of the deceased sailors and called for DOZER to stop. Together, they managed to get the body onboard.

It took a bit of work, but CIPHER was able to get the body beneath deck, even with all the added weight of water. It had been a fairly clean and recent kill of theirs, so it was likely still full of blood. As he approached the holding bay, he could see Rachael waiting for him, seemingly aware of his presence.

CIPHER carefully unlocked the door, but held back from walking in. Instead, he waited, watching. Rachael began to shift impatiently, claws twitching. "Get against the other wall."

Rachael paused her steady observation of the corpse to shift her eyeless gaze to him. For a moment, it seemed she would challenge him, but she slowly crept backwards until she was against the other wall of her confinement. Satisfied by the act, CIPHER shrugged the body off on top of the cage before backing up quickly and sealing the door once more.

Rachael wasted no time going to town on the corpse. In a flash, she was hanging from the limp corpse, her head split open and her leechlike proboscis attached into the bloated and swollen flesh. Even through the metal, CIPHER could hear the squelching sounds that the strange organ produced as she drained the remaining blood in the deceased man's body.

Observing her, CIPHER noted that the way she fed was almost graceful compared to the way he'd seen the other monsters feed. They latched on without hesitation, biting and sucking until they ripped off ragged chunks. Rachael practically embraced the corpse she was feasting upon, wrapping her strong arms around the body as she sucked out its life force. It was a macabre beauty, but CIPHER was a macabre person.

Smiling to himself, he shook his head as he wondered just how many monsters had made it off that ship in total.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

If he were to be honest, CIPHER was surprised he woke up at all. Even given the work relations they'd had so far, he'd fully expected to have been attacked by DOZER in his sleep. Even more surprising, he had actually woken up on his own. He was sure that Rachael was going to make more of a ruckus once she ran out of food.

While the thought crossed his mind, he silently crept towards the holding cell, careful to manage each step. Approaching the glass, he could see within and was surprised to see her laying in the corner of the cage, the man's clothes draped over her body in a crude fashion. Quickly, he realized she must have been cold. Realizing that it would be best to keep her happy until they hit land, he began looking for some form of temperature control, finally finding it off to the side. Briefly, he dredged up some memory about water temperatures and adjusted the dial. Peering back through the glass, he was glad to see she was still asleep. He wasn't sure he was ready to deal with her at this hour.

Creeping up the steps, he saw DOZER at the helm, standing rigidly. CIPHER opened the door with a slight amount of noise more than he normally would have as he entered. DOZER turned his head slightly, noticing CIPHER. "Your turn?"

CIPHER didn't bother answering, instead taking the helm. DOZER nodded to himself before sighing and sauntering out of the room. Soon, CIPHER was alone at the helm surrounded by nothing but the trackless expanse of ocean around him. Idly, he wondered if any of the T-Abyss mutations would make it far out of the wreck before being consumed by the ocean.

As soon as the investors on the mission realized that they hadn't received contact recently, they would investigate and find the wreckage of the vessel. The attack would draw international attention, especially from organizations like TerraSave, who would rush to the scene in order to sterilize the craft. And yet CIPHER was sure that the virus would continue living on. After all, Rachael was with them, and if even one of the creatures made it into the ocean, all it would take is one fish taking a nip at one of them to spread the disease.

CIPHER had never been much into biology, but now he wished he had. He dimly recalled something about DNA in viruses and wondered what would happen if one of the infected were to spread the disease to another creature. Thinking back on the images of Scarmiglione, he doubted he wanted to know. He made a mental note to make a call into TerraSave to warn them about that, if only out of the fact that he didn't want to be the one to deal with it.

CIPHER felt a small amount of annoyance at the thought of contacting an organization like TerraSave in the interest of the world's health. He preferred to think of it as looking after his own interests, but he also couldn't deny he'd already done other things in the past few days alone that went against everything he'd learned in Umbrella.

A dry laugh escaped him as he thought about the doomed organization. Not only had it failed abysmally, it had ensured that nothing like it could ever rise again. In the wake of Umbrella, numerous organizations had sprung up to counter bioterrorism. The BSAA went and fought it in the face, TerraSave helped survivors as well as protested potential trouble spots, and countless nations had cracked down on bioterrorism, making it harder than ever to deal in the business. If one good thing came out of Umbrella, it was that bioterrorism was slowly dying.

Or at least the business end of it, CIPHER corrected. The viruses themselves were still well and alive. The Queen Zenobia was proof of that. Idly, CIPHER wondered what would happen to animal life over the next few decades due to isolated outbreaks of the virus as a side effect of primary infections. Chuckling to himself, he wondered if he could have been a scientist in all of this instead of a mercenary. Still, he'd look into it a bit, if not just to sate his interest.

Piloting the boat in amicable silence, he began running through plans and lines in his head. The first issue would be when they entered European Union waters. A ship coming from as far out as they did would certainly get flagged for transit. They would need some way of getting into the Mediterranean without notice. _Perhaps this thing has some kind of technology to deal with that?_

It wouldn't have surprised him to find it equipped with some kind of channel blocker. Being quite illegitimate in its dealings, it would have to mask its presence. He made a note to find such a device as soon as possible, but it would only mask their electronic presence. Ships tended to be visually flagged, so they'd need a way to duck that as well.

CIPHER grinned wolfishly at the memory of one mission he'd done during his early recruit days. They had been instructed to invade a hospital in a town across the Black Sea. It had been much quicker to take a boat, and so the mission was carried out by an aquatic approach. Umbrella had invested in an electronic mask, but the mission still had to be carried out at night. From landing to departure, the mission was fairly standard but he always remembered the approach.

After arrival, they'd have to find some way of getting Rachael off the boat without anyone noticing or even knowing of her existence. More concerning, they'd have to find some place to store her for a long time where they could set up base until such a time where they could safely reach the proper authorities to deal with the situation. Then DOZER and he would have to get out of the firing line. Just because they assisted in the destruction of Rachael, didn't mean they would have the murders on the ship forgive, or their past crimes under Umbrella.

A small part of CIPHER wondered how long he'd be on the run unofficially for. Technically, he'd gone missing during the Anti-Umbrella raids, and doubted that he'd cropped up on anybody's radars much in the years since. Somewhere, in some government's archive, was a piece of paper that contained his name and the infamous red and white umbrella; and that was all that was needed to make him the enemy of most every nation on the planet. Sure, he made it by doing dirty jobs for people willing to look the other way about his past, or that didn't know about him, but it would only be a matter of time until someone caught him, and then it would be over.

At the same time, he realized there would be nothing for him to retire to. Even if he somehow got his name off the record, he had no skills that were as good as his ability to fight. All of his secondary skills were based on fighting; all his engineering, biology, or medical knowledge was based on how to harm effectively. All under the assumption that he could find some place where they'd actually hire him.

CIPHER shook his head at the idea. It wasn't the time for such thoughts. Even if all that happened, it would never work. He was too cruel, too relentless, to live in any normal society. He'd killed more men, women, and even children than he could count, or even cared about. Sometimes, he'd sent them to fates worse than death. There would be no salvation for him.

Brushing aside the dark thoughts, CIPHER focused on piloting the ship across the endless ocean.

* * *

CIPHER smirked to himself as he walked amongst the people of the small town of Obalagrad. He was without his suit for the minute, simply taking care of some business. His trip to the Sunday market had yielded enough foodstuffs to last the pair of them to live for a while.

Now his sights were set on anything that would help with their mission. In his casual clothes, he could pass as one of the peaceable people. It was kind of interesting to be back in a civilian setting again, given the long time he'd been gone.

It hadn't taken him long to find an internet cafe. It was exactly the sort of locale he needed to get some information, as well as to, unusually, give some. Casually, he approached the counter, sizing up the man behind it. "Trebam oko dvadeset minuta. 1"

The man nodded, handing him a log on card. CIPHER took it with a nod, before sitting down in a seat he had scoped out on entering the building. It was in a section of the small building where the camera didn't quite cover. _Something to be said about the conveniences of small town services,_ he mused with a smile.

Quickly, he began his work, opening an incognito tab. Though it would do little to stop a focused investigation, it would slow progress should someone start looking into it. Conscious of his time limit, he made tipping TerraSave his priority.

He had to laugh a little when he saw their website. Decked in light blues and whites, it reminded him of every hospital website he'd ever seen. He was briefly tempted to scroll through their "Success Stories" tab, but he persuaded himself away from it. Instead, he pulled up the contact information, declining to give any kind of personal information. Cracking his knuckles, he began typing his prepared message.

"Friend and me discovered creature out in ocean other day fishing. GPS say it was at this location." The short message, with the rough position of the ship, skewed to avoid suspicion on his knowledge of the Zenobia's location. Some secretary would receive the message, and hand it off to the higher ups, and soon enough it would be taken care of. By the time they tried to track down the supposed fisherman to interview him, CIPHER would be long gone.

With the rest of his time, CIPHER began looking up all the data he could on the t-virus. He was surprised by the amount of information he found; it seemed that a wealth of knowledge about the virus had just been released. Looking deeper, he was even more surprised to see that the main force behind the sudden release was none other than TerraSave. The news articles he read suggested that after having blocked WilPharma's testing, they took up the research after the fall of the pharmaceutical company. Between their work in the field and the research that had been saved in the Harvardville Incident, a vaccine had been engineered for the t-virus.

CIPHER had to lean back in his chair. The virus that had threatened the world for so many years was...gone. Or at least, would soon be. Admittedly, the t-abyss was still out there, but if TerraSave could work from the base of the t-virus, it wouldn't take long to create a cure for the t-abyss.

 _Would the t-vaccine work on Rachael?_

The thought surprised him. He had never considered a cure before. It was true that there was more left in her skull than with the others, but he never expected the possibility that she could regain anything more than fragments of humanity. If he could get his hands on a t-vaccine…

A few keystrokes and he had located the closest hospitals in the region. A few more searches and he'd found one that had TerraSave as a connection that wasn't too far away. Neither he or DOZER could obtain a vehicle without registration, and if they happened across a vehicle they could use, they'd wind up in a lot of trouble if they were pulled over or tagged by local law enforcement.

Via map, he was able to find the truck loading bay, which would be his ticket in. While it would be under security monitor, it would also be the closest thing to the medical storage, as well as one of the weakest points. He wasn't so concerned with stealth as with speed. It would be perfect.

* * *

Carefully, CIPHER lowered himself through the window, relying on his muscles to support him. Even in the dark, he could make out the features of the security consoles before him. As he thought, there was no one manning the station. _Unlike the states, these countries can't afford to hire constant staff_.

Working quickly, he found the series of power cords leading into the machine and quickly slashed them. It was a simple method compared to what he could have done, but it would be the most effective for the short window he needed. After checking to make sure that nothing was still working, he returned to the window he had used to get in, slipping back out.

Landing easily on his toes, CIPHER moved around the corner of the building to the loading bay. Reaching up, he pressed the controls, causing the shutter to shake a little as it began to rise. He only held it for a moment, before sliding into the space beneath, his smooth clothing allowing him to ease his way across the smooth concrete floor. Rolling to his feet, he peered into the darkness, trying to spot the nearest door. With his goggles, he could see a sign above one of the doors that read "ostava.2"

Stealthing along the hall, he soon found the storage room. To his relief, the door opened easily now that the security system was out. Slipping inside, he began sorting inspecting the labels, looking for anything that might tell him where the vaccine might be.

It didn't take long to find it. The vials glowed a slight blue in the darkness, and he doubted he would even need the night vision goggles to find them. Even so, if he had any doubts before, it was completely gone when he read the label, clearly outlined by the backlighting. "T-vaccine." Never in his life did he think that he'd ever see a vaccine for the t-virus, and here he was stealing one.

Realizing he was wasting time, CIPHER slid the vial into his vest, before leaving without a second glance.

* * *

"So what's this I hear about the Queen Zenobia?"

Heads turned away from reports as Parker entered the room. The large man stood out amongst the rest of them, dressed in combat gear to their office wear. Even so, the mood of the room hardly changed, as it was thick with tension and fear.

A dark haired woman approached him while the others resumed their work, passing him a file. As he accepted it, he looked around, taking in the scene. In a glance, he could see at least three people on communication channels, speaking rapidly to people while others flitted between tables, carrying stacks of charts, reports and other assorted files. People crowded around maps, pointing to places and arguing. He could even see a few military officers amongst the mess. Cracking open the file, he began reading as the woman began speaking.

"One of our moderators found a message sent through the contact page about a run-in with a creature. Not a lot of details, but it did have a GPS location."

"There's barely anything in this report. What's the Queen Zenobia got to do with this?"

"The GPS location is shockingly close to the wreckage. If it was a creature from the wreck, it could mean there's more in there."

"If that were the case, you wouldn't need me. We have cleanup crews for that. There's more to this."

The woman nodded, turning the page to show a picture of a large boat. "This vessel was recorded leaving the US a few days ago, and according to some reports we got, the ship had a large amount of mercenaries on it. Including ones that hadn't shown their faces in a while."

Parker nodded, looking through the photos. He'd heard of some of the folks depicted. Some were guns-for-hire, but there were a couple of psychos in there as well. "I'm guessing it wasn't the annual merc fishing trip."

"Another report shows the one of the side vessels turning up in Serbia with no detection prior to its arrival at the town, which was only found in the morning. None of the other vessels have been located anywhere else."

"So someone jumped ship. What does this have to do with the Zenobia?"

"When we swung a satellite over the site, we found evidence of a wreckage matching the ship that left port."

"You think someone sabotaged it?" In his mind, Parker tried to figure out who would be crazy enough to sabotage a boat full of mercenaries in waters potentially teaming with T-Abyss infected creatures.

"We're not sure. We need to send a crew to investigate the remains and see if we can find any records or indications about what happened. In addition, we need to inspect the craft and clean up any remaining organisms that may have survived. From there, we need to trail the ship that escaped and find whoever managed to escape. If they're just a survivor, we need to find out what happened, but if they're our perpetrators, we need to bring them in."

"So why do you need me? I work for the B.S.A.A., not TerraSave."

"The only people still around from the Queen Zenobia Incident are yourself, Chris Redfield, and Jill Valentine. Mr. Redfield is in charge of the B.S.A.A. North American Division and Jill is his partner…"

"Which leaves only me. I understand. You need someone who's got experience in the area."

"Of course. We're also pairing with the BSAA. Through our connections, we're able to get everyone headed into the mission any kind of medical equipment they might need, while the B.S.A.A. provides the muscle."

Parker thanked the woman, scanning the file over, his eyebrows furrowed together. Ever since Terragrigia, it seemed like the world was going to hell to him. Harvardville, the Queen Zenobia...this was just another on the growing list of bio-terrorist acts in this decade. Despite that, however, he still felt that he owed to everyone to continue. When he thought of Jill and Chris, and how they'd been through so much more than him and were still going strong, he realized that he couldn't quit now. Besides, he still hadn't found Raymond.

Vester had saved his life, even if he hadn't been required to. There was still something human in Vester; Parker intended to bring that back. And if he couldn't, he would bring Raymond in to face punishment. Clenching his hand tightly on the spine of the folder, he steeled himself for the mission ahead, staring intently at the maps, particularly at the red circles marking the sunken ruins of the Queen Zenobia...

* * *

1: I need about twenty minutes.

2: storage


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

CIPHER watched pensively as Rachael crawled about the cage they had set up in the center of the room. It was ramshackle, but worked well enough at keeping her in. Even now, watching her was making his skin crawl. Before, he'd just regarded it as part of her monstrous nature, but now that it was possible that she could be redeemed…

He regarded the vial in his hand, spinning it in thought. Despite all he'd gone through to get to this point, he was having doubts. He wasn't even sure why he was. He shook his head to try and dispel the reservations he had.

Turning, he grabbed the syringe he'd taken off the ship, sliding the vial into the clasp. He watched with mild curiosity as it automatically slid the vial downwards out of sight, hissing as it did so. "Pretty fancy."

It wasn't the only hiss he heard. He was surprised to turn to see Rachael regarding him angrily, her proboscis pulsating aggressively. CIPHER quickly realized that she was reacting to the sound of the needle, which sounded a great deal like the hiss that the Oozes produced.

"Hey, calm down. Just some medicine. It'll help you, okay?"

Rachael paused, her whole body going tense. CIPHER watched her carefully, trying to judge from her behaviour whether she was getting ready to attack or something else. Carefully, he stepped forward, hands at his side so as to appear non-threatening. Rachael began pacing back and forth by the door to the cage.

Eying the syringe, he wondered how best to do the deed. No matter how he did it, she was likely to react once she got the dosage. All the scenarios he came up with would end better if he wasn't touching her when it took effect. Making up his mind, he laid his hand on the door, watching as she pressed against the side of the cage. Her own faceless eyes watched his face as he flicked between her and the door.

Finally, he quickly opened the door, only to immediately shut it again. It had the desired effect; Rachael lunged for the door, only to have her claw knocked back by the impact. Knocking her off balance, CIPHER was able to open the door quickly and rush towards her with the needle. His aim didn't fail him, and the needle found her neck. For a moment, he could almost see the faces of civilians he'd done the same thing to multiple times before, but it all faded away as his mind raced. The moment that the plunger hit the bottom, he pulled back, pushing Rachael away with his spare hand. Tossing the needle aside, he used the same hand to close the door behind him as he spun out, sealing it tightly once more.

He watched in curiosity and interest as she fell back, claws clutching at her neck. Her head split wide, a horrific shriek ripping from her powerful lungs. Her gills flared in pain as she spasmodically flailed on the ground, kicking her legs. With one swipe of her leg, she managed to knock a section off the ramshackle container, resulting in a wound on her leg. CIPHER began to back up; if she was reacting in such a way that she was ignoring her limits, he wanted as much space between her and him as possible.

"What's going on?! What's happening to me?! Somebody, help!" His eyes widened behind his visor as she twisted on the floor, her screams beginning to form words. Even her more lucid moments were nothing compared to what she was saying now. As he watched, he swore that her skin began to lose some of the bloody colouration it had previously, becoming only a slightly reddish pink. Her monstrous features failed to reform however, even as time passed and her wailing and flailing began to die down.

Soon, Rachael lay on her back, unmoving. CIPHER grabbed his rifle as he approached, aiming at her just in case she leapt at him. Opening the door, he knelt beside her, touching a hand to her neck. Still alive. He breathed a sigh of relief as her breathing picked up, becoming deeper and healthier. Though she had no eyes to indicate so, he was sure that she was asleep.

"What the hell happened here?"

CIPHER turned to see DOZER, back from whatever business had called him away. DOZER's goggled view flicked from him kneeling over the slightly changed Rachael, to the hole in the wall, and finally to the abandoned syringe.

"What the fuck did you do?"

* * *

By all right, Raymond should have been one of the most pleased people in the world at the time. Tricell, his benefactor, had just come into possession of one of the rarest viral strains in the world, right from under the nose of TerraSave. Even better, it was entirely legal, so they would suffer no potential muckrakers looking into their business.

That was before he'd heard word about the discovery about the ruins of the Queen Zenobia. The ghost ship that still haunted him.

Raymond didn't feel regret about many of the things he'd done before and after it. It was largely business, and just that. Deep down, he knew why he'd joined with Tricell to begin with; fear. Terragrigia had shown him what bioterrorism could do, and it wasn't pretty. He'd seen people, good people, ripped apart by unthinking, unfeeling monsters. And when he'd seen the city sink into the ocean, he knew one thing. The terrorists would never quit. He'd barely made it out of Terragrigia alive fighting on the side opposed to the terrorists. He'd stand a much better chance working for them.

Ever since then, he'd dedicated himself to working in the safest way he could. He rarely dealt with the infected himself, and humans were easy enough to ambush and take out quickly. Zenobia had been the exception for two reasons.

Firstly, it had been a significant risk to himself.

Secondly, he would have taken more risk if he could have saved a few more people.

Even though he'd defected to Tricell, he was never much on people having to die needlessly. If he could get away with getting in and out undetected, all the better. After all, they were people just trying to survive just like him. Zenobia bothered him for just that reason. He'd not only let people die; he was the cause of their death.

Mainly Rachael's.

Rachael, the agent who didn't want to come on the mission. He'd thought she'd be more frustrating, but despite not wanting to come along, she performed her job well, and was more than willing to listen to him, even as he fed her false information. It was that false information that lead to her death, he had later learned through his contacts.

There were nights where he lay awake, trying to figure out what he could have done differently, ways to end with her alive. It didn't matter in the end; she was dead. The only thing that helped him shrug off the event was the fact that he'd saved Parker. If it hadn't been for him, Parker would have baked alive on that ship. One life for another.

So when he heard news that the Zenobia wasn't entirely destroyed, a small portion of him had wondered if she had survived the explosion. The bitter part of him was hasty to remind him that even if she had, it wouldn't be Rachael any more. Only a horrific monster spawned by the same people he'd imitated as part of the plot that got her killed in the first place.

Still, when they had further informed him that people had explored the vessel and potentially extracted some important cargo, he was more than willing to sign for the mission. He figured it might help him lose some of the regrets of that mission if he put it to bed once and for all.

He had dug straight into the evidence and records. Whoever did it was professional, and it didn't take long for him to figure that it was someone who had participated in espionage, particularly dealing with terrorism and corporate, before. There was only one company in recent history that fit that description: Umbrella.

Somehow or another, Umbrella, or Umbrella remnants, were involved with this new event. If that were true, it would have to do with the virus, which made him think that there was indeed something that had been alive on the ship. And if there was something alive…

Rachael, or whatever she was, could still be out there.

He made up his mind: if he ended up running into whatever she had turned into during the mission, he would be the one to kill it. It was the least he could do to remember her. And if he didn't, he would head to the wreck himself, and either find her or her corpse there. Only then would the regret go.

Clicking his Magnum, he paused to look at the weapon. Once again, he would don his Il Veltro disguise in order to hide his identity. And once again, one way or another, it would lead to the death of Rachael Foley.

* * *

CIPHER raised his arm to block DOZER's punch, staggering from the force of impact. The bigger man had barely paused in his assault since he'd spied the needle. It had been a stroke of luck and speed that CIPHER had been able to reach him to knock the gun away before he could fire it. But it had left him open to attack, and he'd been on the defensive since then.

Knowing he'd have to take a hit sooner or later, he deflected one of DOZER's hits so that it barely clipped him before striking quickly at the larger man's solar plexus. Unfortunately, his hand impacted against the padding there, dealing minimal damage to the larger man. DOZER's large hands grabbed CIPHER's arms and the man rammed his armoured head into CIPHER's, making him reel back in pain.

Managing to control his spin, he flicked his leg up, catching the larger man in the side as he charged, but he was still taken to the ground. Tucking, he hit the ground faster than DOZER, rolling to a stand just in time to leap on the larger man's back with a well placed elbow. This time, to his luck, DOZER's back wasn't as armoured as his front, and his covered elbow found its mark, briefly stunning the bear of a man.

CIPHER reached for his knife, only for DOZER to rise up and throw him off. CIPHER attempted to kip up but DOZER snagged his legs and tossed him backwards, impacting the wall with a thud. Seizing his opportunity, DOZER ran towards his rifle, snagging it with a quick turn, aiming at CIPHER.

Only the spot where he had landed was empty. DOZER grunted in anger and scanned the room. There was only one spot close enough that CIPHER could have gotten behind, and that was Rachael's cage. Slowly approaching, he anticipated a counter attack at any moment. Cautiously, he edged around the corner of the cage, trying to spot CIPHER. Glancing inside, he checked to make sure that Rachael couldn't reach him, only for her to be gone as well.

He had only a moment to react before he was plowed into from above, a heavy mass sending him sprawling and his gun being knocked from his hands. He could only grunt in pain as a pair of claws dug into his shoulders, increasing pressure to try and get through his body armour.

"DIE! DIE! DIE!" DOZER's heart nearly stopped as Rachael shrieked above him, throwing him by her grip in his flesh. Despite his large size, he was barely a ragdoll in her grip. He knew he was finished as he lay against the wall, no gun to be seen. Rachael shrieked in rage, baring her long claws in preparation to charge him.

"DON'T!" DOZER turned his head lazily, trying to keep the mist at bay as he saw CIPHER step out from behind the cage, extending a hand as one might towards someone with a gun. He seemed shaken and nervous, but was trying his best to be a pillar of control. Rachael regarded him, flexing her fingers, twitching slightly. "Don't kill him."

"Kill…?" The words came out questioningly, as if she just realized what was happening. "I was going to...kill…Oh God…"

DOZER watched with surprise as she fell to her knees, her strange knob like feet sliding either direction. She moved to grip her head with her hands, but began running them along her body in horror, feeling every slight mutation of her skin. Her breathing became rapid and quickly turned into screaming. Not combat screaming, or intimidation, but screaming of unimaginable mental distress.

DOZER's head pounded as he tried to block out the noise. Any resistance he had faded, and he soon fell over into comfortable sleep. As the man hit the floor with loud thunk, CIPHER covered his ears, trying his hardest to fight the pain as Rachael continued to shriek. He was thankful they were so far out from town, but he knew that if she continued for too long, she might actually attract attention.

Taking a step forward, he found himself surprisingly disoriented. Determined to keep focus, he tried to figure out what about the shriek was causing his dizziness. Focusing would help him keep moving, no matter how sickened he felt. Perhaps it was a sonic effect, or maybe a specific frequency that messed with people's heads. He'd seen a lot in his time at Umbrella, so it wouldn't surprise him. Almost nothing did any more.

Cracking his eyes open despite his pain, he could see that Rachael was still several feet away from him. He tried to stagger forward, only for his disorientation to make him fall over. The shock of it combined with the beat down he had sustained made him unable to stand back up, and he could only writhe weakly as he struggled to remain conscious.

It was over. Rachael would escape, and...and…

* * *

"Last time I go drinking…"

CIPHER recognized the voice as that of DOZER, not too far away from himself. As he regained consciousness, the pain in his body came back to him and he coughed, propping himself up to help his breathing.

"You're alive too eh? Can't say I'm not a little disappointed," DOZER grumbled, but CIPHER didn't hear him move. At length, CIPHER was able to see, and he looked over to see DOZER propped against the wall he had been knocked out on. Like himself, the larger man was obviously out of the fight for now.

"Seems I'm not the only one. You see where Rachael went?"

"No fucking clue. I just woke up myself. And unlike you, I can't get up for a bit thanks to her claws. What is it with women and their nails?" he asked bitterly, grunting in pain. CIPHER slowly stood up, nearly falling over again. Catching the edge of the cage, he looked around, trying to find any signs of what had occurred while he was out. Glancing at his larger companion, he became surprisingly aware of the blood that was pooled about his legs, largely dried.

"Jesus Christ…" CIPHER muttered, staggering over to the med bay. DOZER watched him lazily with what CIPHER had originally interpreted as just being beat down, but now understood was intense blood loss. Pulling out a med kit, he ignored the vials and containers of meds that tumbled out, scattering across the floor. He'd take care of them later.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" DOZER demanded as CIPHER knelt beside him, removing a canister from the kit. Despite his condition, DOZER managed to lock CIPHER's hand tightly in his grip, preventing him from aiming the nozzle.

"Taking care of your wounds. What do you think I was doing?"

"Beats the hell out of me. All I know is that I just beat the shit out of you and now you're patching me up. What good reason could you possibly have for doing that? It can't be from the good of your non-existent heart. We don't work like that, and you know it."

CIPHER didn't respond, instead leveraging DOZER's arm so he could grab and twist, causing him to not only lose his grip, but also lean forward, exposing his wounds. DOZER grunted in pain just as CIPHER reached over him, spraying the wounds with the first aid canister. Quickly, CIPHER tossed it aside before setting DOZER back against the wall. "There you big wuss. Not stay here while I retrieve Rachael."

"You're not seriously thinking of going after her are you?" he asked, stunned. "We can just get up and go. She's not our problem now."

"If she's found, you don't think she's going to provide some kind of lead back to us? Besides, after you went unconscious, she began talking. It wasn't much but it was more than before. We could be sitting on a stockpile of information that could net us more cash than you could dream of. All we have to do is play our cards right, and for that, we need her."

DOZER laughed, settling back into a comfortable position as CIPHER stood up. "Man, you're something else. Though I gotta admit, I can dream of a lot of cash. If you die, I'm taking your stuff."

"Where's your rifle?"

"Same place it was. Over by the cage," he muttered, reaching into his pockets to hand CIPHER his spare ammo. "You'll need this."

"I doubt it, but thanks anyway."

"You cocky bastard. Don't stay out too late. You know I hate it when you miss dinner," he joked tiredly, lapsing into silence to focus on his wounds. CIPHER didn't respond as he picked up the rifle, topping off the ammo. In addition, he grabbed a few doses of sedative, preferring to take her back unharmed. Just to be sure, he searched the entirety of the small shack, but no sign of Rachael turned up. Checking to make sure he still had his blade, he stepped outside of the building.

The area they had set up in was fairly remote, all things considered. The small building lay in an alcove in the hills, probably a remnant of some time long prior. None of the trails lead to it anymore, and it was only by CIPHER's tracking experience that they were able to find it.

The same skills were coming into play at that same moment. It wasn't long before he found the unusual tracks that only Rachael would be able to produce. They resembled small circles in some places, penguin feet in others. He could see a few places where she'd struggled to walk, claws marks disturbing the earth there. A few times, he found evidence that she'd sat down and stayed for short periods before wandering in what he first took to be a random direction. As he continued to follow her through the woods, he became aware of the sound of the ocean over the rustling of the trees and realized she was heading towards the ocean.

Picking up the pace, he began hurriedly following her tracks, his gun aimed ahead. The newest tracks were only a few minutes old, so he had to be closing on her position. All at once he broke from the trees onto a stretch of beach. He swept his gun to both sides, clearing his surroundings.

Finally, he spotted her a small distance away, knelt in the surf. More worryingly, he could see the lights of the town in the distance. Though unlikely, there was a chance that both of them would be seen by some of the villagers. He had never dreamed she would get this close to any of the inhabitants. Luckily, it seemed she wasn't heading any closer towards them.

"Rachael!" he called out, though with restraint, glancing around as he approached. She jerked up, turning to face him. Her mouth dropped in fear after a momentary contortion of trying to get her muscles to work how she wanted. She fell backwards as she tried to get away, but she seemed unused to her own body, falling over in a spray of wet sand.

CIPHER rushed closer, but stayed far enough away as to not spook her too much. If he needed too, he could full on body tackle her to the ground to prevent her escape, but he hoped he wouldn't have to resort to that. Cautiously, he held his gun off to the side, but still in a way where he could snap it to aim. With his other hand, he extended his palm, trying to get across his message of peace. "It's okay. We just need to talk."

"Get...back…" Rachael's voice came out with an involuntary hiss. CIPHER could tell that it took a lot for her to focus on speech, as she stopped backpedaling and unconsciously moved her head in sync with her words. If he could just keep her talking…

"Alright. I'll stay right here. Is that alright?"

"Just...stay back…" she pleaded, looking around, trying to figure out what was happening. CIPHER realized he had to keep her attention on him before she forgot or got too panicked. She had already been wandering around for a while and was no doubt in a panic. He was just lucky he caught her in the exhausted phase.

"We're in the Baltics," he offered, both trying to allay her concerns and to refocus her attention. She snapped to him instantly, soaking in the answer. Cautioning a step forward, he was relieved to see that she either didn't notice or didn't care.

"How...I was on the ship…" A gurgling came from Rachael as her vocal control gave out, and CIPHER moved quickly to keep control of the conversation.

"You were attacked and infected with the t-Abyss virus. It prevented you from dying. My partner and I found you down there," he explained, omitting certain details, like how long she'd been gone, or why they were there.

"T...virus...how…?" It seemed that her ability to talk was degenerating from stress. Surreptitiously, he grabbed one of the tranq syringes, holding it out of sight as he approached.

"They found a cure. I was able to get a vial of it and administer it to you. You need to rest." CIPHER's voice was authoritative and clinical with his suggestion. Rachael looked to the side, as if debating it, and CIPHER rocked a little on his toes, ready to spring if things took a turn for the worse.

"Okay…" He waited a moment to see if she would say anything, but moved quickly when she didn't. Instantly, he was by her side, syringe held to her neck. As the medicine took hold, she twitched and spasmed as her deeper instinct fought the oncoming darkness, but ultimately, she went limp in his grip,

Once she was out, CIPHER leaned back, sitting on the sand. The whole thing had gone better than he'd expected in a lot of ways, but there were still problems to come. Namely, the fact that her returned sentience would make any deal involving her a hell of a lot harder. Not only would he have to convince a potential buyer that it was in their interests, he would have to get her to comply. Looking over at her unconscious form, he sighed, resigning himself to planning as he picked her up, grunting from the weight. It was going to be a long hike back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The initial survey of the wreck had been...gruesome. By the time they arrived, most of the corpses had either deteriorated completely, been eaten, or were so horribly bloated that only DNA evidence gave any proof of who they had been.

Parker shook his head as they dragged one of the corpses on deck, each of the men dressed in full Hazmat clothing. Everyone not involved in the transport of the bodies was watching from behind the glass of the bridge, sealed carefully with the latest in biohazard proof doors. The white-clad men and women worked quickly to get the body below deck, trying to avoid causing its condition worsening, while simultaneously avoiding getting pathogens on deck. It was only a few minutes before the swollen husk disappeared below the ship to be examined and, after proper channels, autopsied.

"How many people were aboard that ship?"

"Records for its passenger list are flimsy, and we suspect that it was a mercenary vessel, but there were a few dozen at least. So far, we haven't found any survivors."

"Let me guess, we're not expecting any are we?" Parker asked glumly. All day they'd yet to see a sign of any living thing in the sprawling wreckage. He knew the probabilities of survival at sea. It had already been a few days, so it was unlikely that anyone would have survived. By the signs of it, whatever had destroyed the ship had been thorough. That fact did not sit well with him. B.O.W.'s were not thorough, they were messy, chaotic. With each passing minute he became increasingly convinced that this was the work of people.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Parker dismissed. The woman waited a moment longer before nodding and taking her leave. He didn't spare another glance as she walked away.

Looking around, he took in the reactions of the crew. Despite the air of professionalism, he could sense the uneasiness all around. At first, he thought that it would be another standard mission for them, despite the need of his advice, but he quickly realized it was beyond the scope of their standard missions. None of them had seen this level of carnage and death before. If he was to be fair, he hadn't either. Back on the Zenobia, everyone had already been turned or consumed. Add on to that the adrenaline fueled tunnel vision, and one had a recipe for blissful ignorance.

Deciding to talk a walk, he headed down the stairs to the equipment room, uneasily rolling his shoulders. He didn't like the waiting, the looming threat of some unearthed secret. He wanted to get out there and help, not hide in the ship. And it seemed he wasn't the only one.

The others on the expedition team were already there as well, sitting around in thought. He had been introduced to them briefly, but they had all been distracted by the mission ahead.

"Parker, right?"

"Yeah. You must be Lucia?" Parker looked at the woman who had addressed him. She was a thin woman with an olive complexion and dark hair. Recalling the personnel files he'd been issued, she would be the leader of their little group. She'd worked as one of TerraSave's security force members. They weren't quite as experienced as the BSAA, since they mainly deployed to non-combat zones, but he had to admit that they were far better field medics than most of the BSAA.

"That would be me. It's a pleasure to work with you sir. We all respect the BSAA here for doing the job so we don't have to." Parker nodded. No one wanted to be the one to face the undead directly, since every wound was a potential infection, and many of the most basic kinds were stronger than the average human by a decent measure.

"And yet here you are. I appreciate the fact that you're all willing to go down there with me. So who are our brave volunteers?"

"All present are from my squad. Firstly, there's Jonah. Been with the squad since formation." Lucia waved towards a middle-aged man with reddish hair. Parker noticed that despite his age, he was still fairly fit. _Probably from the army_.

"We've also got Jackie. She's our team's rookie. Came from Terra Save's medical corp, but wanted to do some of the front-line defense." The girl in question was the youngest of the group by far. Her natural hair was brown, but she Parker could see lightened streaks in her hair that spoke of some bleaching in her past. She stood, slightly cocked, trying to relax, but Parker could see her tension.

"Pleased to meet you sir. I hear you've been on the ship before? What can we expect?"

"Last time I was on it, the whole thing was still floating, so it's a bit different now. But it had a lot of long corridors between the larger areas."

"That's where our last member comes in. Frank's a sharpshooter. He'll be good in those larger rooms."

"Happy to be working with you," the man said cheerfully. Parker raised an eyebrow in surprise at his attitude. Most sharpshooters he'd met tended to be sullen folk who had an ego the size of the moon. Looking again, he noticed there were still more unusual things about him. The man was unusually heavy-set for a sharpshooter, but very bulky. Parker internally wondered with a smile if he could beat the man in an arm-wrestle.

"Have any of you done aquatic missions before?" Parker inquired, turning to Lucia. The officer shook her head.

"This will be the first one. The T-Abyss is relatively new, so we haven't had a lot of field experience with it. However, just after the Queen Zenobia went down, Terra Save began training its squads for possible aquatic missions. We've only been in the simulations for it, and only a few times."

"I presume you understand that we don't have a lot of firepower down there at the minimum?"

"Of course sir. Everyone here understands this. We'll be relying on stealth, just like in the mission objective."

"Good. Now remember, it's not worth risking anyone to achieve the objective. Things get too hot, we get out of there, got it?" Everyone assembled affirmed, looking a little less stressed. A crackle interrupted the moment, and a voice came over the speakers.

"Insertion squad, please report to deck."

"You heard them, let's head up!" Lucia commanded, and the team began rushing up the stairs. She turned to Parker. "After you sir."

Parker nodded his head as they went back upstairs. Instantly, he noticed one of the medical personnel, out of their suit, among the crew. He wore a worried expression that spoke of trouble. "What's the situation?"

"We just finished our preliminary inspection of the corpses, and there's some things that cropped up. Firstly, they were mercenaries, just as our intel suggested. We were able to retrieve some identification from them. More importantly though we noticed that some of their wounds were a little inconsistent with the idea that the ship just exploded. More than a few of the bodies displayed bullet holes, some done after being waterlogged."

"This sounds more like a terrorist attack than an accident. Whoever got off the ship must have been involved in the killing of the crew," Lucia surmised.

"You mean the ship spotted near Europe?" Parker asked, starting to get the picture.

"One and the same. It's the last surviving piece of the vessel, and considering we haven't heard from any survivors, we can only assume it was the aggressors. We've got a division trying to find them. It won't be long before they're found. It does mean that we've got one more objective en route though."

"That being?"

"Finding the black box. If there's even a remote chance that it can give us some answers, we have to take it. It shouldn't be too hard to find it given the equipment we have access to."

"Anything else we should know about before going down there?" Parker asked the medical examiner.

"Just be cautious. We're unsure what would be down there, but some of the bodies have been eaten by Oozes, so you can expect a few of them down there. After your expedition, we're going to blow the place up with a series of depth charges to try and get rid of as many of the things as we can."

"Alright then. We'll try to make this quick then. I want to be back in time for dinner."

* * *

By the time they'd closed in on the black box's position, they'd already encountered a few bad signs. They'd found some submerged oxygen tanks, only partially used. The particular brand suggested they were for long term usage, which only bode poorly when there proved to be quite a lot of oxygen left in them.

When they got to the ship itself, all of them felt the thick, uneasy air of the wreckage. Perhaps it was the pressure, but it felt like something was pressing down on them. Having to look around with their headlamps made them easy targets.

Parker glanced to the left, where Jonah was using a tracker to lead them towards the black box. Other than the occasional hand gesture to guide and correct their course, there was barely any break in the monotony. Parker could almost hear the breath of relief as he motioned for them to stop, inspecting the murk on the hull. Scraping it aside, he picked up the small box, inspecting it for damage.

"Seems operational. Jackie, give me the float."

"Here you are sir." Jackie handed him a small device that resembled a cage with a tightly wrapped package on the side. Jonah took the object and put the black box inside, sealing it tightly. With a tug, he pulled a string on the side, causing the package to burst forth, inflating into a set of balloons. The float quickly zipped up out of sight, a small, red flashing light being the last sight as it beamed its coordinates out to a receiver.

"Alright. That's one taken care of. Now we just recon the sight, and assess the damage."

"We should start in the bottom. That's where the lab was. If there's any active pathogen, that's where it'd be."

"Good point. Lead the way Mr. Luciani." Parker nodded, motioning for them to move laterally towards the edge of the ship. Lucia quickly swam up beside him, assisting the point position.

Parker could hear Jackie gasp in fear as they reached the edge of the ship. He did have to admit it was slightly terrifying, despite the depth they'd already dealt with. Looking down, the side of the ship extending off into the gloom. Somehow, being on the edge and having a point by which to judge the depth seemed infinitely worse, like staring into an abyss.

Summoning his courage, Parker began the descent. "Frank, keep an eye to the waters. We're in the open here. Steer clear of windows."

The light switching direction above him told him that his order had been heard, and he lead the group down into the darkness. It was a few minutes before they reached the bottom, where the ship met the plateau. Orienting himself, Parker motioned off to the left. "The Malacoda took the front off the ship when it attacked. We should be able to enter through there."

Parker started leading when Jackie piped up. "Sir, how do we kill these things? Are they like zombies?"

"Pretty much. Shoot them in the head and all. There are some that have claws or launchers, so be careful if you see them. As for the Malacoda...well, let's hope we don't fight one. It took a helicopter to fight that thing, so we should run if we see one. Alright folks, hold up. We're approaching the insertion point."

Just at the edge of his vision he could see the fraying of the impact point. Approaching cautiously, he swung around the corner, ready to fire. Spotting a couple of Oozes, he plugged a couple of shots in each of their heads. He waved quickly for the others to follow behind him as he swam forward. "Damn. Keep an eye out. We might be swarmed soon."

"What makes you say that? These rifles are silenced and I can't see anything," Frank opined as the group moved into the shadow of the ship's wreck.

"There's still a lot we don't know about the T-Abyss virus. We haven't had enough samples beyond the vaccine in Jill's blood to compare it to. We know that it came from an Abyssal fish, but that still leaves a lot of unknowns. For all we know, they could smell blood, feel the vibrations in the water, or even sense our electrical impulses."

"We should collect some then!" Jackie spoke up, turning around.

"What are you doing? We're not going in the open!"

"But these sample could be the difference in hundreds of cases. Just think about it!"

Parker gripped his gun tightly, finally motioning for her to proceed begrudgingly. He hated the idea of being the grim one, but he didn't want to lose anyone unnecessarily. Jackie nodded, swimming out, escorted by the others. "Don't worry, we'll be quick."

Jackie was right. She reached the body swiftly, and already had several needles in the body. With a quick motion, she also severed a section of the creature's flesh, slipping it into a sealed container. Within a few short minutes, she was back at beside him, equipped with the samples.

"Glad to see it worked out. Float them up and let's push on. The less weight, the better."

"Alright sir. Just give me a sec and...there we go." Another float on its way to the surface, its red light spiralling up into the darkness. Parker couldn't help but feel that he wished he could head up with it. He also knew that everyone else was thinking the same thing, so he once again took it upon himself to be the leader and charge forth.

"We're closing in on the lab. It should be just down the hall." Soon enough the wooden walls gave way to steel ones, and he could see the telltale signs of the kind of maniacal science he'd come to resent everywhere. He was about to tell everyone to keep their guards up when his eyes fell upon a horrifying sight.

Lying about the central lab were chunks of flesh, cleanly sliced and perfectly uniform. Even in pieces, he could recognize the shape anywhere. The Malacoda.

"Jesus...Santo cazzo Madre di Cristo1!"

"Parker what's…!" Everyone fell silent as they witnessed the sight before them. "Is that..?"

"A dead Malacoda. And not the one we killed. Someone killed it."

* * *

Parker took a breath of air as the team breached the surface. It had been hell to sweep the ship, but they had managed to ascertain that there was no samples of pure T-Abyss to be found anywhere.

The dead Malacoda still weighed on his mind. They had confirmed that the security system had killed it, but it also turned out that the security could only be manually activated. All signs pointed to someone familiar with the ship, or something like it. Even more concerning, there were no corpses along the path of the Malacoda's trail, which suggested that there was no loses in the conflict. Someone had actually managed to take out the Malacoda without dying.

Parker, not to say the team, were ready to get back onboard. The sweep had tired them all out, and they had been silent for the last portion of it, aside from when they finished and headed up. As they approached the ship, Parker could see several men and women of the crew waiting impatiently. One of them pointed to where he and the rest of the team were.

"Something's happened," Parker explained without prompting, picking up his pace. He could hear the paddling of the rest of the team behind him. By the time they approached, the crew had already thrown over ropes. Pumping with adrenaline, Parker climbed even as the crew strained to pull him out, reaching the deck before the others. Without him even asking, the crew pointed him upstairs.

"What happened?" he demanded, practically bursting through the door. The operation head turned, beckoning him to the window before pointing off to the side of the ship opposite from where they boarded.

"See for yourself." Parker leaned towards the glass, eyes narrowing as he saw a ship being brought back towards the main vessel. It was one of their side ships.

"Why was it deployed?"

"We didn't deploy it. While we were monitoring the mission, a few of the crew boarded it, and took it out on the water. They managed to get to the black box before we could stop them. We tried to recover the files, but everything was deleted. Even worse, we picked up a signal blip, so we think they managed to get a message out but we weren't fast enough to stop it. We did track it though, and it was received somewhere in the Baltics."

"Did they get the samples?" Parker inquisited, grabbing the man by his shoulders. The man shook his head.

"No. They were already engaged in a firefight with us when the samples surfaced. They didn't have the chance to go after them before they were eliminated."

Parker heaved a sigh of relief, seating himself heavily in a chair as the others followed. The head caught them up while Parker caught his breath. "Do we know who did it?"

"No idea, but we think that the ship that we were tracking must be somewhere in the Baltics."

"Why would they wipe the data though? What could be on there?"

"We're in the dark on that too, but for now, we have orders to head over towards the Baltics. We'll drop the samples in at one of our European facilities for processing before taking you there. You all should get some rest; you did good work down there, despite the setback."

Parker nodded, turning to leave the cabin. The others seemed to want to say something, but none of them spoke as he left, heading to his cabin. By the time he had changed and collapsed on the bed, he was bone tired. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, worrying until the point of unconsciousness about what they could be up against.

* * *

 _Click_.

" _We retrieved the data in the black box, and are sending it attached to this message. By the time this message finishes, Phase One will have already started. Once our informant has received confirmation of the B.O.W.'s presence, you will receive confirmation to proceed to Phase Two._ "

 _Click_.

The message stopped and Raymond sighed as he leaned back in his chair, replaying the black box message again. He'd already analyzed the messages backwards and forwards several times while waiting for the confirmation. It would be any moment now…

A part of him almost wished that Rachael was on the ship, so that he wouldn't have to take care of her himself, but mostly he wanted to end her. He glanced over at the pilot, who was awaiting his orders. The man was completely masked and anonymous; perfect for the mission they would be attempting.

The file still lay at his side, emblazoned with red warnings and instructions. He knew his task by heart already:

 _Locate the attackers and the B.O.W. Eliminate resistance and bring back the body of the B.O.W. Do not risk live transport._

A new blip popped up on Raymond's computer, marking a new message. Impatiently, he read the text with a growing smile. He turned to the pilot, his voice commandeering. "Pilot. Site 2."

The man nodded, taking off with practiced ease, turning eastwards. Raymond closed his laptop, setting it to the side atop the file. Picking up his gun, he took aim, testing his reflexes. The mission report of the events inside the Zenobia were quite interesting. Particularly the last bit.

 _Target not aboard. Head to Site 2._

* * *

1: "Holy shit, mother of Christ!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

CIPHER raised his gun swiftly, aiming dead ahead. Sighing, he lowered the rifle again, going through the motions of reloading it, even though he hadn't fired a single bullet. The room was mostly silent aside from the constant sliding and clicking of his weapon, and the occasional, raspy breath of Rachael.

DOZER still lay asleep where he had fallen, completely unaware of the world around him. With the lack of speech, CIPHER had been pressed to fill the void; he was fine with silence so long as he was the one causing it. Rachael had already woken up before he returned to the shack, but didn't say anything along the way until he had set her down, when she had quietly thanked him.

The constant reloading of his weapon served not only to keep the motion fresh in his mind, but also to keep her aware of him. He hoped that the constant noise would finally get to her and cause her to speak. It was one of the oldest torture techniques in the book, and for a good reason. It was highly effective.

But as time wore on, he became increasingly convinced she was spacing out or ignoring him. At long last, he set his gun aside, watching carefully so as to see if she reacted. Not a single motion. "You still with me?"

Rachael jerked up, turning partway towards him. Not far enough so that he could see her face, or what remained of it, but enough to hear him clearly. Her mouth opened, splitting what portion of her face he could see horrifically as she tried to articulate. The divide that now formed her maw opened and closed a few times, producing a few rasping starts, but no words. CIPHER realized she was not only trying to think of what to say, but also how to say it. Finally, she went silent, and CIPHER was about to ask again when she finally managed words.  
"I...I'm here. Did you...need something?"

"Just making sure you're all there. A lot has happened," CIPHER explained briefly, weighing each word carefully. What he didn't say spoke more than what he did. There were a million and one concerns: sleep deprivation, mutation rates, control, everything. Not to mention how she would take the truth of everything that happened.

"Like what? Please...tell me what has happened," Rachael pleaded. CIPHER stared at her for a long moment, weighing his options. On the one hand, a certain amount of knowledge needed to be kept from her, like who he was and what his end goals were. But telling her some of it would help ply her to his course.

"You remember being deployed on-board the Zenobia, right? The mission turned out to be a smokescreen for a gambit by O'Brien. He wanted to reveal Morgan Lansdale as the man behind the Terragrigia Incident."

"I don't remember that...I was never told that…"

"It was intentional. O'Brien didn't think you would be at that much risk, so he engineered it so that the FBC would respond. Raymond knew, and you were the cover. After you were attacked, the BSAA managed to prove that Lansdale was behind it, and the BSAA took over the FBC's operations."

"How am I back if I was attacked?"

"Shortly after the Zenobia Incident, an airport in Harvardville was attacked and infected with the t-virus. I won't go into the details too much, but they managed to get a vaccine for the t-virus. I administered it to you."

"Is that what I had?"

"Not quite. Your infection was the t-abyss, a hybrid of t and an abyssal virus. There is no cure yet for t-abyss."

"So I'm not cured..?"

"No. At best, you're stabilized, if you can call it that. We're working to get you to a group called TerraSave. They were the ones that distributed the t-virus. They should be able to take a look at you and see if they can do something." CIPHER resisted the urge to nod to himself as he watched her.

"What group are you with?" CIPHER's blood ran cold as he realized his mistake. He had referred to the groups as an outsider, leaving him isolated. Quickly, he began synthesizing a convenient cover story.

"I'm with a European anti-terror organization. My partner and I took out a ship that was transiting you to our shores. We were hoping to exchange you for some monetary support to our division. Anti-terror isn't cheap you know," he added with a chuckle. Rachael seemed to nod a little, contemplating his words.

"You seemed to be in an argument earlier...I can't really remember…"

CIPHER couldn't resist the smile on his face, though she couldn't see it. _She can't remember what happened before the injection._ "We had a difference of opinion. He wanted to ask for more money, so we argued."

Rachael nodded again solemnly, but didn't say anything further for a while. "Thank you."

"We're still trying to get you to TerraSave. Don't thank me yet. Is there anything else you need?"

"No...thank you for answering me…"

"Alright. If you think of anything else, I'll be in the other room, okay? Get some rest."

"Alright…"

As soon as he was in the other room, CIPHER let out a deep sigh. He hated having to talk with people under any circumstance. Settling down on the bed on the far end of the room, he pulled out his comms device. With Rachael buying his lines, he could now afford to begin the transaction. Recalling the line for TerraSave, he began tuning in the call, letting the system's algorithm take care of the bouncing. As the line crackled to life, he took a deep breath, preparing his demands.

* * *

"Then we have a deal. We'll leave the asset in a locale where you can safely secure it, and you'll allow our third party to handle the cash transaction."

Parker frowned grimly as the news was relayed over the radio. After the man had called up, they had patched the call over to Parker, who was currently on the fastest transit they could manage over to Europe. The discussion had gone back and forth for a while now, with no confirmation of the man's specific co-ordinates. They had managed to track him to the Baltics, like they suspected, but the program he was using kept throwing them off.

The operator began to speak when the man interrupted. "Hold up a sec. I heard something."

In the background, Parker could hear a voice, though he had trouble distinguishing what it was saying. The tone seemed feminine, but it was so raspy and rough that he wondered if she suffered from some kind of respiratory issue. "Who are..!"

Her voice was cut off and the sound of gunfire erupted over the line. Only a few moments of scuffle were heard before the sounds faded, fading into silence. The line was still going, but there was nobody answering.

"Parker, you heard that right?" A voice came over his headset, and Parker pressed the earpiece closer. "Sounds like our contact just got whacked. Your mission has changed. We'll track the open line and drop you as close to possible. Once on site, look for any signs of what happened while we track the attackers. You'll find some members of the BSAA waiting for you near the site. Understood?"

"Loud and clear. Just...one thing."

"Yes?"

"The woman's voice...it seemed familiar somehow. I don't remember who, but I swear I've heard it before."

"If we find anything, we'll update you. HQ out."

Parker nodded, slipping into thought. _Where have I heard that voice before? I swear I've heard it before. Was it on the ship?_ Despite how he tried, it seemed one step away from him. Sighing, he looked out at the ocean, dreading what was to come.

* * *

"So what's the situation?"

Parker had hit the ground only a few minutes prior and had met up with the infiltration squad. They had been assembled quickly, and had only arrived slightly before he had arrived.

"We got our surveillance up just in time. We managed to catch sight of a single person entering the building shortly after we arrived. At the time, there was nothing we could do to stop them, but they haven't left."

"Let me see the footage," Parker demanded, and the squad leader handed him the screen. Through the feed, Parker could make out the form of a man in a full black uniform sneak up to the building. Immediately, he noticed that the man's tactics were similar to those that the BSAA used. _He's a professional_ , Parker noted, sharing the information with the squad. "We'll do this quietly and try to take him alive. If he resists, do not hesitate to shoot."

"Alright then, I'll be taking point. Fan out and be prepared for anything." The men nodded, and Parker passed the screen back to the outpost crew. Drawing his rifle, he began creeping into the brush, the men following him. Silently, the squad made its way towards the building. As they approached, the based kept them up to speed on anything that happened.

" _Alter heading by 5 degrees to the right. The tree cover is thicker there_ " the voice advised. Thus, they went along, adjusting course as needed. While Parker's group went for the frontal approach, another group went around the back to exploit the windows along the top of the building, as well as to cover more angles. Soon, Parker's group was at the treeline.

"We're in position."

"So are we. Proceed towards the door." Parker nodded, quickly motioning for the others to follow him. The chevron of men approached the door, staying low as they prepared a breach. Parker looked across at the other pointman, and nodded, counting down silently. The man readied the breaching hammer and on the count of three, swung with all his might, knocking in the door. He immediately stepped back, letting the other men swarm in.

"Put your hands where I can see them!" Parker shouted, aiming his gun inside, where the man was standing. Surprisingly, he seemed to realize the position he was in, and put up his hands, a magnum in his right hand. "Drop the gun!"

The infiltrator acquiesced, dropping it to the floor, and one of the squad members moved to secure him. In a flash, the infiltrator had snagged his arm, spun him around and stolen his pistol, using the man as a human shield. Parker and his men immediately dove behind cover, aiming their rifles. "Go quietly and we won't have to shoot!"

"Like you would shoot," the man replied in a familiar voice. "Lower your weapons and I'll lower mine."

Parker nodded, and motioned for the men to lower, but not drop their guns. The infiltrator kept his end of the deal, lowering the pistol, but he still held the man. "Who are you?"

"Don't remember me Parker?" the man asked with a laugh. He reached up to where he wore a mask and pulled it off, tossing it aside. To Parker's surprise, before him stood the last man he expected to see: Raymond Vester.

"Raymond?! What are you doing here!"

"Same thing as you, just for a different reason. I came to locate the B.O.W., but it seems I wasn't the first one here. Your contact's in the other room, but I can't get him to come out. He's barred the door. Now, we can either work together to solve this one, or continue to point guns while the other guys get away. What'll it be?"

Parker frowned, but stepped out from cover. "Let my man go and I'll be much happier to talk."

Raymond shrugged and let go of the man, who quickly moved from grasping range. "Much better. Now stay there while I deal with the contact."

Raymond just looked at him sternly, not making any motions while Parker approached the door in question. Parker leaned close, listening. "Are you the man we contacted over the radio?"

For a moment, no one answered, but eventually a man replied. "Yes. You must be the BSAA."

"That we are. Now who are you?"

"I go by CIPHER, and that's all you're getting from me."

"We have reason to believe you had a partner. Are they with you?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Just getting friendly. The more the merrier," Parker retorted, motioning for the other men to keep an eye out in case they got flanked by the missing man. "What happened here? Where is the B.O.W.?"

"We got ambushed. I was in here, so I was able to make a stand against the attackers, but they snatched her before I had a chance to react. I wasn't going to risk my life to try and stop them."

"Her? You mean the B.O.W."

"She's been nothing but trouble since we picked her up on the ship. Shoulda just left her but look how that turned out."

Parker turned to Raymond. "Do you have any info on what he's talking about?"

Any trace of smugness was gone from Raymond's face. "He's talking about Rachael. They smuggled her off the ship."

"Rachael! My god…" Parker whispered. "Alright. We're going to open the door, one way or another, so you can either open it yourself and coming willingly, or we'll bust it down. If you come willingly, I can guarantee that your punishment will be lightened."

Parker waited for a moment, listening to the silence. A minute passed, and he considered commanding the men to move in, but he heard the sound of shuffling from within. "Alright, I'm opening the door."

The door did open after the sound of objects being moved, and a man stepped into the frame. He wore a dark, full body suit that somewhat resembled the old Umbrella Corps uniform. His face and eyes were covered by his mask and visor, but he appeared to be unarmed, save for a sword on his back. Wounds were evident on his body by the bandages he had applied to them. Leaning against the doorway, he regarded them all with suspicion. "You have me. I'll come quietly. My partner's in the back, unconscious."

Parker nodded, and the men moved in, dragging the larger man out between them. CIPHER seemed to give up and had to be carried out as well, his exhaustion catching up with him. Soon, it was just Parker and a few men left. He turned to Raymond. "You know we have to take you in."

"Of course. I won't resist," the man promised, offering his hands. Parker nodded solemnly, turning Raymond around and cuffing his hands behind his back. Raymond didn't even protest as he was lead out of the shack. Parker sighed to himself; there was a lot of interrogating to be done, and Raymond's appearance just made things more complicated.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

CIPHER calmly regarded the team leader as he sat at in the chair. It hadn't taken long to get back to their impromptu HQ. They were efficient, CIPHER had to admit. There was no doubt in his mind that they had already talked with the others, especially DOZER. In his injured state, CIPHER believed he would be more susceptible to whatever interrogation methods these men might employ. Even so, he wasn't going to be the one stuck on the receiving end of the rat out.

"Šta želiš da znaš?1"

"No need to speak the native language here pal. I'm not with the local government." CIPHER grunted in acknowledgement, thinking for a moment. He had hoped it was just some local force, but he knew that was hoping too highly for his own good.

"Alright then. What do you want to know? I'm willing to talk."

"What were you doing contacting the BSAA?"

"Ah, so you're with them. Didn't expect you to arrive so quickly, but I didn't expect to get jumped either. In answer to your question, I was hoping to make a deal."

"You mentioned an asset. Something to do with the t-Abyss virus. In addition, we have evidence connecting you to the destruction of a ship full of mercenaries. A ship that happened to be tied to the sunken location of a t-Abyss disaster."

"My partner and I were the ones that blew it up, if that's what you're asking. The original mission was to go down to the ship and retrieve samples of the t-Abyss They told us that it was to try and work on a cure, but you don't hire a ship full of expendable mercenaries to do that. You call the BSAA or someone like that."

"So why did you destroy the ship if you were on the paygrade?"

"Things changed. We went down to the ship. I saw what the t-Abyss can do. I killed the Malacoda-"

"That was you? The only time I've seen one of them killed was with a helicopter."

"This one wasn't in a whale. It had to survive off what it could get, and that made it smaller than normal. Still a hard kill, but not quite up to par with some of the things your agents have done."

"So you know about the Queen Zenobia?"

"Not all the details but yes. If you are in my line of work, you tend to keep up with these things."

"And what line of work is that exactly?"

"Mercenary with a specialty in biological weapon situations."

"How exactly does one get a specialty in that? I don't imagine there's a school for that."

"Actually, there was. Umbrella teaches you well."

"You worked for Umbrella?"

"For a time. After they started sinking, I jumped ship and started working as a mercenary. Turns out that the fall of a biopharmaceutical giant is actually a good time for someone trained in dealing with B.O.W.'s. They started popping up everywhere after Umbrella went down, so I was able to get jobs dealing with them, whether it was eliminating or capturing them."

"So why did you destroy the ship? From the sound of it, you were fine with doing all kinds of shady business before."

"As I said, I saw what was down there. The other viruses were bad, but this one's different. It was practically a living ecosystem down there. It's been months since the ship went down and there's still things down there. Normally the virus dies off and atrophies, but not this one."

"Let's focus back on the situation at hand. What asset were you carrying? It had to be related to the t-Abyss somehow."

CIPHER deliberated for a moment. So far, he'd played his cards flat on the table, knowing it would garner him a measure of security. Some small part of him knew that if he co-operated on by revealing Rachael's existence, he would never be able to get his hands on her again, maybe get a second shot at leveraging her value.

"I had an infected individual in my custody. DOZER and I managed to smuggle it off the ship in an attempt to leverage her for a large amount of money. The way I saw it, we'd hand her off to someone who could cure the disease, but also make us rich. Best of both worlds. Seems someone was keeping ahead of us though and nabbed her before we could arrange the hand-off."

"Her? Could you identify her prior to infection?"

"Yes, but only because I've seen the reports. The infected individual was Rachael Foley, one of the FBC members on the ship."

"Christ…" Parker sat down, the gravitas of the information hitting him. He had thought that Rachael was dead once and for all after the ship went up. "She's alive?"

CIPHER shifted uncomfortably. This was not where he wanted the conversation to go. "Yeah, if you call her being infected alive...though I don't know what will happen now that she's taken."

"How did you get her off the ship? I don't know anyone who's successfully captured a B.O.W. alive before."

CIPHER once again went quiet for a minute, thinking over his options. Parker noticed his reticence and sat down, leaning forward. "If you have any information at all that will help us recover her without fatality, I assure you the BSAA can make you a deal."

Parker noticed that CIPHER had stopped fidgeting as much, and he felt he was onto something. In his own words, the mercenary had admitted to working mainly for his own benefit, so the fact he wasn't immediately jumping on the deal made Parker suspect something. "Is there anything else? Something happened, didn't it?"

"I've worked with the t-virus before, just so you understand. I was one of the guys they called to put down rogue experiments from time to time. I've seen the gamut of what it can make, and every time it's the same. A mindless killing machine. The t-Abyss is different. Rachael's mind wasn't completely destroyed, just mostly. I'll be honest; I don't know why. I've read every file you have on the virus and by all rights she should have become a Sea Creeper or something like that. Not only did she turn into an Ooze instead, which your own scientists noted only happened to male subjects, but your own reports indicated that she showed signs of intelligence beyond that of the Scagdead. I was...able to talk to her. Just a little. Nothing too meaningful, just enough to find out more. I figured that maybe I could fish out something about the virus, in case I ever had to fight it again, but in between all the screaming and the rage was a small piece of a human left behind."

"So you were able to convince her to get off the ship?" Parker asked breathlessly. CIPHER raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had expected Parker to doubt him, but it seemed the man was open to the info.

"Somewhat. It certainly helped when we crated her up and blew the ship. When we hit land and made it to the shack, I decided it was time to make the exchange. Money for her. We'd walk and I wouldn't have to deal with her. But at the same time, I had an idea."

"What idea was that?" Parker asked, intrigue and concern leaking through his voice.

"When I contacted TerraSave to tip them off about the boat, I found out that they had manufactured an anti-T vaccine. After that, I found out that a nearby hospital had some vials of it. I was able to break in and take one."

"You wouldn't have been able to sell it. TerraSave could just manufacture more-"  
"That wasn't the point. I _used_ it," CIPHER interrupted angrily.

"But why? You weren't infected, were you?"  
"I didn't use it on me. And I didn't use it on DOZER. I used it on her," CIPHER explained, dropping the knowledge on Parker. The larger man's expression became dumbstruck and he seemed to flail for words, unsure of how to respond.

"Wh...what happened?"

"She wasn't cured if that's what you're asking. But it did give her some of her faculties back. Enough that she was able to talk and think a little. I'm not scientist, so I couldn't tell you how much she got back, but she was certainly more aware then before. That was just before we got whacked. Now she's god knows where with god knows who. Now, listen to me: I can talk her down if you can get me to her. I was able to talk her down even before the injection, so I should be able to do it again."

"If what you're saying is true, then we need to get her back A.S.A.P. Do you have any idea who took her?"

"No idea. If they weren't your guys, then I can only assume it was someone who had knowledge of where we were going and could get there first."

"Alright. Thank you for your co-operation with us. We'll talk again," Parker promised. He waited a moment in case CIPHER had anything more to say, but the thin man just stayed quiet, content to watch Parker leave the room. Once he was in the hall, he paused, looking down the hall towards the other interrogation rooms. It had been very helpful of the local police to acquiesce to their request for use of the rooms while dealing with the mercenaries. And Raymond.

Parker still couldn't quite figure out why Raymond was there. The mercs were the ones who started it, but Raymond was with them. He had jumped ship ages ago, a mole for some other organization. Parker owed him his life, but he never really expected to see the man. "Sitting here isn't going to answer anything," Parker sighed.

Hustling down to the interrogation room where Raymond was being held, he stepped inside the observation room, spotting Raymond sitting alone on the other side. Despite being caught, he was calm and collected. "Has he said anything yet?"

"Not yet sir. He's been refusing to discuss anything about what he was doing there with any of the people we've sent in. You thinking of giving it a try?"

"Yeah. I think I might be able to get him to open up a little. Just enough to give us a lead."

"Alright sir," the man confirmed, setting up the recording for a new session. Parker hurried his way between rooms, collecting himself before entering. Stepping in, he did his best to stand straight and imposingly. Raymond looked up with mild surprise, and nodded. Parker nodded back, taking a seat.

"You already know I'm going to ask why you were there. I can only assume it was on account of who you work for?" Parker asked, trying to get a response. Raymond just shrugged neither confirming nor denying. Parker repressed a sigh; this wasn't going to be easy.

"Going under the assumption that you were there on request of whoever ordered you to, that would mean that you knew what would be on the end of the deployment. How did you know?"

"No one's immune to information leaks-"

"But not that fast. We only figured out where the location of our contact was a short while ago. You would have had to have known not only the location the second it was released but that it was going to be found. That means resources, Raymond. You're working for someone with resources."

Raymond didn't respond, just watching Parker with a flat expression. Parker shook his hand a little in thought. "Someone with resources enough to get the information, but not enough to intercede with the mission, or not enough clout to cover if something went wrong. They sent you because they couldn't outright sabotage the mission."

Raymond didn't say anything in response, but Parker could tell that he was on to something. He would have said something by now if he were completely wrong. "Talk with me Raymond. We were both there in Terragrigia. You know as well as I do what it can do. So help me here. You saved me back on the Zenobia. Give us something to work with, and I will do everything I can to help you."

Raymond cocked his head, sighing slowly. He seemed conflicted, measuring his options. Parker remained silent, knowing that speaking could possibly sway Raymond away from the deal. Finally, the man nodded once, looking down at the table, before nodding again and meeting Parker's eyes. "Alright, let's talk."

"Alright," Parker agreed, leaning back. "So, did you know what was being transferred?"

"Yes. My contact told me exactly what it was."

"So you knew it was Rachael?"

"...yes, yes I did."

"What were the plans for when you arrived?"

"Secure her body."

"You were going to kill her?"

"I think that much was evident from "secure her body." It'd be preferable to get a live body, but she's such a unique case that they couldn't pass it up, even if it meant killing her."

"It's not secret that organizations like the one that employed you have captured B.O.W.'s alive. What made this so different? Why did you have to kill her if you found her?"

"I didn't _have_ to kill her. I wanted to," Raymond insisted, pointedly emphasizing his words with his hands. Parker was at a loss for words; the way Raymond spoke didn't seem venomous or hateful. It sounded more...regretful. Despite his better sense, he found himself sympathizing with Raymond. He sighed, leaning forward with a calm expression.

"I understand. You don't have to explain why. Do you have any idea who could have taken her?"

Raymond leaned back, thinking deeply for a minute. He hummed in thought, pressing hand to his forehead in an attempt to focus.

"My employers did mention that there might be another group interested in seeking the target out, but that I most likely wouldn't have to deal with them," Raymond offered, rolling his hand to wave off his own unsurety. "I guess whoever was running interference must have messed up if they managed to get a bead before I did."

"Who were they Raymond? We need to find her quickly."

"Around here, they're called Тхе Гунс. It means 'The Guns,' simply enough. They sell their services to whoever needs it."

"So they're mercenaries?"

"Mostly, but remember, this is the Baltics. Most of them were former military. Which military doesn't matter, but every one of them is highly trained. That's what makes them so good. They know the area and they've fought battles of every stripe."

"Why would mercenaries like them want a B.O.W.?"

"They don't want her, they want to sell her. Of course, it wasn't their idea. They're trained, not smart. Someone else is using them. Problem is that whoever employed them is as good at covering their tracks as my employers. We're not going to find any trace of whoever did it."

"But we can take them out and retake Rachael," Parker countered.

"Not without upsetting a lot of people. Any public response would not only be too slow, but it would cause the countries that employ them to be...annoyed, to say the least. These guys are _good_ at what they do."

"So you suggest we take a more subtle approach?"

"Yes, but further than that, I want you to take me."

"You know I can't do that. Even if I trusted you, if the BSAA trusted you, you just admitted to wanting to kill Rachael. We're trying to take her alive, and we believe we can."

Raymond went silent at that, his mouth hanging slightly open as a retort died. "How...how do you intend to do that?"

"Our contact believes that he can take her passively. If he fails, then we have to take her by force, but it's worth the risk."

"And how does he intend to do that?"

"I'm not at liberty to share that, Raymond." Raymond nodded, understanding that even Parker had limits.

"If you're willing to risk working with your contact to take her peacefully, why am I not allowed to come? My knowledge of The Guns is more than anyone on your team, I can assure you. Not to mention that I'm my practical training in infiltration. Bringing me along could help, no, will help reduce risk to the team. Hell, you could send me in unarmed."

"Because you want to kill Rachael. I can't allow that to happen. If you were just wanting to help, I'd have to agree with your point, but we can't risk-"

"If what you're hinting at is true, then I don't want to kill her anymore. Level with me Parker," Raymond demanded firmly, his voice even. "Is she still in there? Did something happen to bring Rachael back?"

A long moment passed as Raymond stood menacingly, glaring down at Parker, who met Raymond's gaze with a thoughtful expression. Parker looked to the side briefly before nodding. "Yes, Raymond. According to our contact, she's still in there somewhere. If we can get her back, we might even be able to get her back fully, we hope."

Raymond nodded, slowly sitting down. As he began to sit, Parker could see the news setting in, his knees shaking and his expression turning to a certain type of confusion that Parker couldn't put a name to. All the while, Raymond was slowly nodding his head, trying to accept the information. He spoke quietly and slowly, as if organizing his thoughts. "All the experiments showed that the t-abyss was different somehow, but they couldn't figure out why...the subjects were all smarter and deadlier but I never thought...jesus...were they all aware?"

Parker could see the guilt settling on Raymond's shoulders. "You never meant for Rachael to die, did you?"

"Of course not. I didn't even expect her to even encounter a B.O.W. She really didn't want to be on that ship...She died because I left her alone. I never wanted anyone to die, not really."

"Do you still think of Terragrigia?"

"Yeah...yeah. How many people died that day? Do you remember?"

"The official count was upwards of a million people. Almost two, and that was just the citizens. Both the BSAA and the FBC lost a lot of good people."

"All because of Lansdale," Raymond said with disgust. "And then he killed even more in order to protect his secret. He's was disgusting."

"So then why do you work for someone who deals in bio-terrorism yourself? You've seen what it does-"

"BECAUSE I'M AFRAID PARKER!" Raymond yelled, standing up and slamming his hands on the table. "And don't try and tell me that you weren't either. Jessica told me herself. You nearly drank yourself to death after Terragrigia. Why do you keep fighting?"

"Because I was afraid too. But I also thought that if I was afraid, then what about those people who perished in Terragrigia? How many people died with fear in their minds? I didn't allow fear to rule me Raymond. I used it to motivate me. If I could allow even one person to sleep easy at night knowing that nothing like that would happen to them, then why wouldn't I?"

Raymond once again fell silent, sitting back down in his chair. He mulled over Parker's words, and he could see that it was not sitting well with him. Finally, he spoke. "I took this mission thinking that if I could just kill her myself it would help. It seems I was wrong. Parker…"

"Yes Raymond?"

"I want to help you guys, and not just because it would help my employers. I want to settle this, and without killing Rachael. Please, let me help you."

"I trust you Raymond, I really do. I'll try and see what I can manage. But you have to understand that this won't excuse collusion with terrorists."

"I know. I'll do time, like anyone else. Once I've served my sentence though, I want to help you. It could just be as a consultant, but I still want to help. Please, Parker."

"Alright Raymond. I'll try and get you on the mission. But understand that if you turn on us, I won't have a choice. Capire?2"

"Crystal."

* * *

1: Roughly translated as "what do you want to know?". Serbian.

2: "Understand?" Italian.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Advance warning about a large amount of Serbian lines in this chapter.

Chapter 10

The dull thumping of her own heart woke Rachael. More disconcertingly, she could feel just how powerfully it beat. Each pump was audible outside her body, and she could feel the engorged tissue moving. She tried to roll over, but she found that something had attached itself to her shoulder, catching on the floor when she tried to move. She tried to crack open her eyes, but found herself unable to do so. Reaching up, her hands felt heavier than usual and she wondered if she'd been drugged. But as her fingers touched her face and she felt the sharpened claws where small, pink nails had once been, the memories of everything came back to her.

With an anguished wail, she bolted up, her claws flying to her body, feeling every change once more. She thought maybe, maybe she had dreamt it all. A horrid nightmare, but waking up once again to her...her…

"Хеј шефе, то је будан!1" Rachael almost didn't notice the other man speaking, but turned towards the sound, hissing involuntarily. The man seemed to recoil by the sound of it, and as Rachael tried to listen, she found herself honing in on his general location by the smallest of sounds.

"Како агресивна је она?2" The voice sounded concerned, but not in a humane way. It was more like he was concerned something had gone wrong with a business agreement or something. "проверити3!"

She heard a gun clicking from the man in front of her, and she threw up her hands in an effort to block the shot from damaging anything important. The shot didn't come. Instead, the man shouted a few things at her, as if trying to provoke her. Finally, he did fire, but the bullets struck the floor beside her, causing her to scurry away from them.

"Idiote! Немојте оштетити робу!4" The second man shouted, and Rachael recognized the sound of a pistol being unholstered only a moment before it was fired. The man slumped over, hitting the floor only a few meters in front of her. "Оставите тело. Морамо да га нахрани некако.5"

Rachael heard the sound of footsteps exiting the room, but could still hear the slight sound of creasing clothes that told her she wasn't alone. Despite the number of people that had been in the room, she hadn't heard the body be moved, and the scent of blood that she could detect made her think that it was still there. The thought that these men would leave one of their own dead on the floor disgusted her.

What disgusted her more though was the vaguely appetizing way the smell danced across her senses. The smell made her stomach churn with hunger as she realized that she hadn't eaten in ages. She didn't even want to think about what her last meal may have been. Desperately, she tried to focus.

 _I'm somewhere guarded by men who I can't understand. I can remember...a man, but it's fuzzy. I need to eat…_ No matter how much she tried, her thoughts circled to the body, and her increasingly apparent weakness. It was only through adrenaline that she'd been able to sit up.

Crawling towards the body, she stopped trying to rationalize it to herself. She needed to eat, and she doubted that even if she could communicate with her captors that they would give her something real, if her new body could even handle it. Her claws settled on the corpse and she dragged it closer, only to find it being separated from her by the bars that made up her cells.

An urge built up in her, fueled by the desperation of not being able to get to the body. An angry hiss began to bubble up from her, only for it to turn into a gurgling noise as she heard _her head splitting_. With rising horror, she could feel the muscles of the inner appendage flexing inside her skull, wriggling its way out of her head, hitting the chilled air. With absolute horror and numbness, she tested the new appendage, undulating it in the air, feeling the rows of teeth claw at the air. Before she even had full control over her actions, she had found her way to the man's body, clamping down like a lamprey. As soon as the first bit of blood hit her stomach, she couldn't push back the revitalizing effect it had on her, flooding strength to her muscles. Carnivorously, she dug the teeth deeper, siphoning the blood from his body.

As she tugged his body for easier access, she heard his gun slid against the ground and she realized that they hadn't taken his weapons. Rachael realized she had to take advantage of the opportunity. Under the pretense of feeding, she began feeling for weapons. His rifle would be too big to conceal on her person, but she found a pistol along with some spare ammo in his pockets. To her great relief, some parts of her own FBC uniform still existed on her body, allowing her to store the weapon on her. She doubted anyone would be willing to give her a pat down. Rachael hissed in pain as she accidentally found his combat knife, slicing her hand on it. The pain only lasted for a moment before the wound began sealing itself back up, audibly knitting flesh together into what Rachael was sure would be a scar. As she drained the last of the man's blood, she hid the knife, just in case. From the feel of it, her claws would be more than enough, but one could never be too safe.

Pulling away from the corpse, Rachael willed the appendage back into her head, feeling the flesh pull itself back into a mockery of her face to cover it up. She could deal with all the things that had happened to her once she was free, but for now, she needed to stay focused. That had been what they taught her back when she was learning to become an agent. Panicking would only make her miss an opportunity. She thought back to the man in her mind.

Now that she was fed, her mind was much clearer and she could recall more. He was one of the few things she could recall from after the ship. Some of the details of the conversation came back to her. He had...injected her with some kind of antigen. He claimed that it had helped bring her out of her mindlessness. She couldn't recall much else besides the fact that he seemed very prominent in her memories after the ship. It was like there was something else…

After that, there was only a fog. She dimly recalled being taken from wherever she'd been, and she suspected that it was the same people who had her now. If that were the case, the most she could hope for was that whoever it was that had saved her would lead someone to her, if he hadn't been captured. Until an opportunity arose, though, she would wait.

Wait...for CIPHER.

* * *

Parker watched as the two men subtly sized each other up. Both were only peripherally aware of who the other was through third parties. When he thought about it, they actually shared a lot in common.

Even so, CIPHER and Raymond didn't seem to trust or like each other, gearing up on opposite sides of the room. Their standard gear had been confiscated for the time being, but they were being issued small arms at the minimum, along with body armour. CIPHER was also outfitted with a bit more in terms of defensive gear, considering that he was essentially a VIP for the mission at hand. Now that he was no longer in his standard outfit, Parker got the chance to better look at the man behind the mask.

It was evident to Parker that the man was largely of Baltic descent by the way of his appearance. His slightly dusty appearance and sullen expression spoke to a harder life there. Despite his gruff expression, he was fairly well kempt, with almost no facial hair. Even if he had, the blonde would have been hard to spot. His eyes lacked the usual brightness of blondes Parker had known, and were instead almost a murky grey. CIPHER's eyes were narrow, betraying just how much time he spent behind his visor.

On a more physical level, Parker could see that Raymond and CIPHER matched quite a bit. Both were lankier, with wiry muscle builds, especially when compared to Parker. At the same time, both of them had leaned towards handguns, though Parker's request for a Magnum had not only been denied, but would getting one would be hard enough. At the same time, after CIPHER's reputation was dug up by the force, his request for any melee weapon longer than a basic combat knife was similarly declined.

The local law enforcement had been more than willing to cooperate with the BSAA's European division in supplying transit and equipment. It had only taken a few hours for the BSAA troops to reach the station and begin prepping for what might end up being a firefight out of the location. For that reason, siege teams were being placed in reserve, just in case they needed to assault the building to back up in the intruding forces.

More presently, however, Parker had to make sure that neither man would kill the other on site. "You two are clear on the directives?"

"Of course. We enter silently and ascertain where Rachael is being held. From there, we spring her while trying to minimize casualties," CIPHER explained robotically as he checked his weapons. "Your equipment is good, for a government organization."

"It'd have to be," Raymond countered bitterly. "We don't mess around."

"No, they don't mess around. You are just like me my friend, if you recall correctly."

"That's enough," Parker interrupted, cutting off the argument before it started. "I will not have you two at each other's throats before the mission even starts. After we're done, you can duel with pool cues. But for now we need to get this done, and without creating any unnecessary risks. Do you understand?"

Both men nodded, equipping the last of their weapons. "All set."

"Ready when you are Parker."

"Good, then let's go. We don't have a minute to waste."

* * *

The convoy came to a stop and Parker immediately jumped down from the back, his men falling in behind him with quiet footfalls as they exited the vehicle. The two other vehicles pulled up only moments later, and the two VIP's exited the vehicles. Parker watched with apprehension as the men began rolling out the biohazard containment equipment. While all on the force were informed of the primary option for retrieving Rachael, even he had to agree that back-up measures needed to be brought along, just in case. Still, he never liked seeing the flamethrowers get brought out.

"Alright, we do this quickly and quietly. I'm sure you all heard Raymond during the way here. These men will not be reasoned with, so if the situation gets too hot, do not hesitate to fire. Still, this is a stealth mission, so avoid stirring the hornet's nest as long as possible. Understood?"

"Understood sir!" the men acknowledged in unison, readying their weapons. The teams broke into their divisions, all while the scouting and sniping team moved into position to monitor the outside of the base. The destination had turned out to be an old fort from the days of civil strife. According to Raymond, the Guns had a tendency to gravitate towards old military posts like this due to their familiarity with them. He noted, however, that the Guns tended to lack decent security, considering they were a primarily offensive organization, going after people rather than the other way around.

Parker himself was in charge of the group that would be doing the main insertion with CIPHER. Old schematics of the building showed a few likely candidates for the location of Rachael, and Raymond had further narrowed it down to one room based on his knowledge of the group.

"Everyone make sure to turn on your headsets before we go in. Everyone reading me?"

"Five by five."

"Alright, let's do this," Parker commanded, drawing his handgun. The teams split into the woods, quickly disappearing from view. Leading his team onwards, they approached the fort by the southern side. While it was on a downwards slope, the war in the area had caused sections of the hill to either be blown away or slide off, creating a series of natural trenches by which Parker's team approached the building, timing their advancements with the scout team's information. Once they were sure the coast was clear, they would advance to the next one.

As the moved, Parker watched CIPHER at work. The man was clearly trained. He moved with an efficiency that Parker hardly ever saw outside of the armed forces. Had he been wearing BSAA fatigues, he might have even mistaken him for one of the team. But the man was a mercenary, and one that had worked for Umbrella at that. Parker found himself wondering what had possessed him to comply so completely with the BSAA. Sure, he had been caught and compliance would lighten his sentence, but he had no reason to want to assure Rachael's survival. Even more strange to Parker, he had injected Rachael with anti-t. From everything he had dug up on the man, it seemed survival was his main objective. Injecting Rachael only introduced risk, so it seemed extremely out of character for him.

Parker didn't let the thoughts cloud his attention though as they approached the fort. Admittedly, it was more of a military base than a fort compared to the other Guns' bases. Parker didn't even need Raymond to tell him this was likely the HQ for the organization. Peering over the ridge, he was able to see their insertion point. One of the sections of fence that surrounded the complex had been destroyed in one of the regional conflicts and was left damaged. The overgrowth would also allow them cover as they approached the building. From there, they would get up to one of the cell windows on the ground floor and burn their way through the bars.

Sneaking through the underbrush, Parker thought back to the number of times he'd been forced to run from B.O.W.'s on the Zenobia due to a lack of ammo or just the inability to fight some of them at the time. It had been a crash course in on the fly stealth, taking advantage of obstacles to put some distance between him and the pursuer. And yet some never stopped, like Rachael. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony. She had spent so long hunting him on that ship, only for him to be the one to come and rescue her.

"Sir, ready to breach." Parker nodded and gave flashed a thumbs up as the man applied the thermite, making sure to make the hole in the bars large enough for the men to fit. Stepping back, he activated the complex, causing it to eat through the bars quickly. The careful application caused them to fall outwards, landing on the earth with little noise. Just to be sure, the man grabbed them and hid them in the brush in case the metal gave off a shine as the others quickly slipped through the window.

"Remember, all the men in this building are yellow right now. If something goes wrong, report immediately before the situation goes orange. If we can catch any of them unawares, we need to take it before the situation goes critical. Understood?" All on the channel responded and Parker approached the door of the cell. To their luck, it was unlocked, meaning they wouldn't have to attempt another breach.

Their pointman carefully cleared the door, pair breaching with one of the other men before signalling that the door was safe. The team slipped out into the hall, and turned to the right, following the left wall. CIPHER was kept in the middle, with one eye on him at all times as they progressed. It would only be a few hallways before they reached their target, but it was crucial to keep as quiet as possible. Parker just hoped that things were going well with the others.

* * *

The other men didn't notice, but he did. Raymond had noticed the second they had breached, which was only a moment after Parker's team. It hadn't been obvious from the distant inspection of the place, and especially on the older side where Parker's team had gone.

The Guns had done some repairs on the base.

He should have expected as much, considering the poor shape many of the bases were in after the wars. It seemed the repairs were a bit more recent, as the paint was slightly better in quality that what a lot of the old bases had. Still, it seemed that they hadn't bothered to fix the security systems, as he could easily spot many broken camera mounts and smashed card readers. It seemed they had taken the place by storm, leaving it much more susceptible to attack.

It hadn't mattered much until they turned the first corner. Where there should have been a door, they instead found a barricade, sealing the room beyond off. The decision was made to turn around and backtrack out, but as they heard footsteps down the corridor behind them, they knew things were about to go loud. The leader of the squad quickly signalled the men to provide a distraction while he sent out the info.

"Situation red, the layout's different. They've changed some of the doors and we've been cornered. We're going loud!" the man explained quickly, just as one of the troops lobbed a flashbang around the corner, causing the guards to stop in surprise moments before being blinded. No time was wasted as the BSAA advanced on them, shooting both quickly. The sound of bullet fire, though not as loud as usual, was sure to be noticed, and the signs of conflict would be found.

Raymond drew his pistol, his senses bristling to awareness as his training came back to him. He fell back almost instinctively, moving in time with the team as they attempted to push towards the objective. It wasn't long however, before a bigger, more aware group of men found them and took out a couple of their men. The team split itself quickly between the two doors beside them, using the doors to suppress the enemy assault. Raymond cursed as he looked around the room. There had to be some way to get to Rachael. Spotting a vent, he realized that they were unlikely to have changed the vent layout due to how much effort it would take. Without hesitation, he shot the bolts off the vent, using a pile of crates to crawl up into the vent.

Following the curve of the vent, he soon realized he was above the enemy position. He could see men taking position to either side of the hallway, spraying weapons fire down towards the BSAA troops through the vent grating. Quickly, he grabbed a flashbang, dropping it moments before unloading with his Magnum on the men. He was suddenly glad for his earplugs, as he was sure that the sound of a Magnum going off in a vent would have certainly deafened him if not for that. As it was, he could practically feel the shockwaves of each bullet. Soon, however, the men were dead and he shouted for the men.

"Raymond! What are you doing?" the captain asked, confusion evident on his face.

"I can get to Rachael through here. I'm loaded lighter than the rest of you, so I can fit through the vents. If I see any obstacles along the way, I'll keep you up to date," he promised.

"Parker, you catch that?" the captain asked over the coms.

"Raymond, we've almost reached the target. Wait for us to breach before exiting the vents, and don't draw attention to yourself. Bravo, move out. We've gone loud, so let's take a few of these bastards out, okay?"

"Understood." With barely another thought, Raymond watched as the men sprinted off towards their objective. Not wanting to waste any time, Raymond began the task of crawling through the vents. Silently he pulled himself along, carefully trying to avoid banging anything too noisily. He found himself holding his breath as he crawled, his muscles straining as he tried to control each tiny motion.

Soon, he found the room he was looking for at the end of a 4 way intersection. Jackknifing himself around the corner, he carefully pulled his feet clear of the sharp corner, his gun in his hand. Approaching the vent exit, he found himself squinting at the light streaming in. Once he actually reached the grate, he peered through, searching the room. Carefully, he used his headset's built in camera to send the image to Parker, making sure the team would have the drop when they barged in.

While he was waiting, Raymond took the time to scan the room. Despite the danger Rachael supposedly posed to them, the guard was light. A grand total of four men, discounting the dead one, guarded Rachael. They seemed nervous, however, which Raymond has learned to never underestimate. He hoped Parker had been at least half-trained in stealth, or the team could very well end up startling one of the men.

After searching the rest of the room, he realized that he was delaying observation of the most crucial detail: Rachael. Holding back the urge to sigh, he forced himself to look at her, almost immediately drawing his eyes away from her. It took all his self control to not slam his fist into the vent, right there. Forcing himself to maintain his gaze this time, his hate gave way to nervousness as he realized that she was not only awake, but looking right at his position. Despite knowing he was hidden, he had no doubt in his mind that she knew he was there. His heart stopped as he realized that one wrong move on either of their parts and he was toast. Even given how hidden he was, if even one shot got through the grate, it would likely hit his head and that would be that.

With each passing moment, his heart beat loudly, fearing that Rachael would give away his position. It would be a fitting end, her causing him to die in the act of redemption. But she did nothing, only stare at him intently. Her mouth twitched slightly with what he had at first thought were ragged breaths, but quickly realized was her thinking to herself. He could only imagine what thoughts could be going through her head at the time.

He wished suddenly that he could tell her that help was coming, to warn her of what was happening. But he found that all he could do was wait. Wait, with his magnum trained on the men inside.

* * *

Parker took no chances. As soon as the door burst inwards, he levelled his shotgun at the man in the fatal funnel. He didn't even have time to think before his brain stopped functioning. Aiming for the head was a habit Parker never quite kicked after the Zenobia. He was still surprised when a Magnum shot fired from the vent at the other end of the room, instantly killing a man.

But was surprised him most was when Rachael pulled her own gun, killing one of the last two men before charging the bars and spearing the other with her massive claws. Even so, he managed to get a few pistol shots off. Rachael seemed to shrug off the damage as she pushed her claw further into him, tearing through organs and bone before tossing him aside with a snap. Parker was almost grateful for the help before she turned her gun towards them, spraying at the ground.

"STOP!" Raymond shouted, slipping out of the vent with a roll. He aimed his Magnum at Parker as he did so, forcing the men's attention on him. Parker could tell he had no intent of shooting him, as Raymond's finger was nowhere near the trigger, but it served its purpose. The momentary distraction had likely saved Rachael's life.

"Wh...who are you?!" Rachael demanded. "Answer or I shoot!"

"We're the BSAA. We're here to get you out of this place. Please, we're your friends," Parker insisted.

"BSAA...I remember you…" Rachael muttered. "You stay back!"

Raymond stepped back in surprise as Rachael pointed her claw towards him, but he complied, raising his hands complicitly. "Rachael, it's me, Raymond. You can trust these men. They just want to help you."

"Why would I trust you?! You LEFT me! I DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!" Rachael accused, swinging the gun to face him, but he noticed that she didn't fire immediately. In fact, her arm seemed to shake nervously. Had she been able to express it on her face, Raymond was sure she would have been indecisive, but as it was, anguish was the only expression that it could portray.

"Because he's right," CIPHER interjected, stepping forward. "We just want to get you out of here. Please, Rachael, put down the gun. He's not the enemy. Without him, we wouldn't have been able to get to you. He never meant for you to die Rachael. He's trying to save you."

"Then why didn't he stick with me? I was all alone when they attacked…"

"I was a coward," Raymond admitted angrily. "I saw what they could do with Terragrigia. I thought maybe, maybe if I worked with them I could be spared. I was afraid Rachael-"

"You think you were afraid?! I could feel them start to eat me before she chased them off! How do you think it feels to be eaten?! You let me die," Rachael insisted, her grip on the gun slipping. The weapon hit the ground, firing off a round a few feet to the right of Raymond. Her legs failing, she fell to the ground, her breathing ragged as she repeated the phrase "you let me die," several times.

Parker watched the scene with a heavy heart. Carefully, he opened the door to the cage, causing a few of the men's grips to go to their guns, but he motioned them down. He stepped towards Rachael, feeling an unknown bravery inside himself. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Extending his hand to her, he waited with bated breath as she looked to him, shakily reaching her hand out. She drew a breath of surprise when he clamped her hand firmly, ignoring the slime and hard texturing. Helping her to her feet, he slung himself under her shoulder, helping her to her feet despite the sharp and annoying protrusions poking against his side. "I'll help you out. CIPHER!"

The man nodded, taking the other side. Parker nodded to the men, who turned and left the room, ready to lead back to the breach. He made eye contact with Raymond quickly and the two men shared a moment. Finally, Raymond nodded confidently, following the men with a deadly gait. "You ready?"

"Are you, big man?" CIPHER retorted, prompting a snort from Parker. Together, the two men bore Rachael's ragged and sad form on their shoulders as they followed after the team.

* * *

Hey boss, it's awake!

How aggressive is it?

Check

Don't damage the goods!

Leave the body. We have to feed it somehow.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"They got us pinned down!"

Parker cursed as the wall near his head cracked under the impact of rifle fire. It seemed the Guns had recovered from the initial surprise rather quickly. Already they were reorganizing and cutting off escape routes. The fact that the BSAA forces were outnumbered didn't help. By the comm's chatter, it would take the siege team some time to break through the outside guard. Even so, the siege force was helping draw some focus off the teams inside, so Parker was grateful for that much.

"Any progress?" After the initial fight broke out, Parker had dispatched a pair of his men to trying to find a way out, either through another room or through a wall if need be. So far, all alternative routes had been cut off by fighting, and it seemed that the Guns' mercenaries were professionals when it came to hold-the-line tactics.

"No joy. We don't have high enough grade explosives to blow through any of these walls. They're all reinforced on the inside as well, so we can't just knock them down," one of the men replied. "Even if we could, we'd have to get some space to detonate it and that would mean pushing through the enemy."

"Alright, keep looking, we'll see what we-"

"Parker," Raymond interrupted, reloading his weapon. "I think we can get Rachael out of here without having to go through them. Remember back on the Zenobia? How did she chase you?"

"Through the vents, why...I see. You think that you might be able to lead her through the vents?" Raymond nodded. "Alright. The siege team has taken the western halls, so if you can drop out there, do so. Be careful. They know we're here now, so they're more likely to notice you."

"Understood," Raymond confirmed. He turned to Rachael, controlling his tone despite the situation. "Are you ready?"

"I think so...ready when you are." Rachael pushed herself to a stand, shaking slightly as she tried to balance her body. Carefully, she made sure her gun was strapped tightly to her suit and that her knife wouldn't stab her in the process of crawling through the vents.

"See you outside," Parker shouted as the pair quickly crossed the corridor, barreling into the hallway leading to where Rachael had been kept.

* * *

Raymond tried his best to ignore the slithering sound behind him as Rachael climbed into the vent. Despite how much larger she was than him now, and how many bony parts she had, she fit in rather easily and quietly. Had he not been directly in front of her, he doubted he would have even heard it. Carefully, he looked over his shoulder to make sure she was alright. "Can you follow me in here? I know it's a bit dark."

"I'll be fine...I can sense you," she replied cryptically. Raymond didn't spare a second thought to _how_ she managed that. Instead, he began crawling forward, carefully navigating to avoid noise. Once again he was glad for the ear plugs, as they made the gunfire that was echoing through the vents much easier to ignore.

As he crawled, his thoughts naturally drifted to the Rachael, and all the things he wanted to ask her. How she'd survived, how she was dealing with the change, and if she would ever forgive him. Keeping his gaze forward, he remembered the gut emotion he'd felt when looking at her, and even now, the image of her in his head made him feel disgust, primarily at himself. He wasn't going to sugarcoat it; she looked monstrous. He doubted that she would ever have anything even close to a normal life.

Raymond refocused as he turned a corner and found himself staring down a long stretch of vent. Supposedly, this vent would lead them to where they needed to go, but even from the distance he was at, he could see the stray bullets that made their way into the passage. It seemed the fighting hadn't been put down in all the western halls. While he could risk it, a stray bullet would be all it took to leave him dead. It wasn't worth the risk. "We have to head back and take the other passage. This one's too risky."

Rachael nodded, sliding backwards. Raymond began retreating, trying to ignore the slimy feeling beneath his hands as he followed after her. Looking up, he focused on the map in his mind, already planning his path. Soon, it came to the intersection and he was never more glad to feel smooth, cold metal under his hands in his life. Crawling ahead, he was relieved to see none of the signs of struggle in this direction. Cautiously, he snuck over a grate, peering through quickly just to check it. Inside he could see stacks of crates, brimming with weapons.

"Hey Parker, one of these storage rooms has a bunch of weapons caches. I don't think they've been tampered with yet, so we might be able to track them back to their provider."

"Alright, we'll keep an eye out for it when we sweep the place afterwards." Raymond nodded to himself as he continued onwards, silently passing over another grate. Ahead of him, he could see the bend in the vent that would lead to the western part of the base. Turning around, he checked to make sure Rachael was still following behind him.

Suddenly, a loud bang filled his hearing and blinding pain engulfed him as his side blossomed in heat. His muscles tightening from the sudden pain, he caused the grate beneath him to give out, making him crash down hard on the floor below, hitting his head hard. For a few desperate moments, Raymond tried to breathe and figure out what had happened before he registered the blood leaking from around his fingers that clutched his side. Forcibly, someone pushed him onto his back, pushing their knee onto his chest.

"Рекао сам да сам нешто чуо!1" Raymond could hear the sound of a knife being drawn and saw the glint as his attacker held it close to his face. "Ви ће платити за ово…"

Raymond prepared himself for the worst when he heard a familiar shrieking. The man pinning him fell to the side, his scream being cut short in a spray of blood. Through the fog, Raymond could see Rachael's claw pierced straight through his throat. The other men in the room reacted quickly, raising their weapons. Rachael curled her right arm, holding it closely in front of her. The bony segments across it deflected some of the bullets while her left hand grabbed the gun from her pocket. Raising it, she downed the men in a few sprays. A few still struggled, clutching their wounds. They didn't do so for long.

Powerlessly, Raymond could only watch as Rachael bent over them, proboscis draining them of their vital fluids. The sound of her feasting rang loudly in his ears, despite the earplugs he was wearing. As she finished the last, his breathing stopped, looking deep into the maw that was her face as she slowly turned towards him, blood running down like tear tracks across the segments of face he could still recognize...

* * *

"Ah, good to see you're still alive!"

Raymond groaned in pain as he received a light punch to the arm. He recognized the hearty laugh that accompanied it and smiled as he cracked his eyes open.

"Please tell me I didn't die and this is my eternal punishment."

"I wouldn't imagine this is Dante's image of eternal punishment, but I'll try to make it so," Parker countered, smiling brightly. Now that he was more aware, Raymond was able to take in the room around him. He was in a hospital room. It was obvious he hadn't yet left the country, as the signs were in Serbian.

"How'd the mission go? What happened after I was out? Is Rachael okay?" he asked, propping himself up with a groan. He spared a quick glance at the wound in his side, spotting the obvious bandages wrapping what he could only presume would be a nasty scar.

"Slow down. You need to rest. Once you lay back I'll tell you everything," Parker assured, pushing the man back down onto the bed. Raymond complied, settling onto the soft cushioning.

"Rachael's fine. It took a while to find out what happened, but eventually she explained that you were shot crawling through the vent. She was able to save you before they could kill you. She was a little...indiscriminate with the bodies, but given her condition, it was overlooked. After she regained her strength, she climbed back into the vent and dragged you with her. She was able to reach the siege team and they got you out before we finished it off."

Raymond sighed, relieved that the mission had succeeded despite his failure. "So what happens now?"

"Well, both you and CIPHER will be placed in custody until the BSAA figures out what to do with you both. Technically, you're both considered biological terrorists, and they'd be well within their rights to have both of you executed, but considering the help you both were in the mission, I'm willing to bet they're willing to avoid that."

"I figured as much. What happens to Rachael now?"

"She's currently being shipped back to BSAA's North American division. They've got a contact they're hoping to borrow from the US government to help with her situation while they work on creating an anti-abyss vaccine. Once it's done, TerraSave can begin distributing the vaccine to prevent anything like Terragrigia from happening again."

"I'm glad to hear it." Raymond took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. Despite the grim future ahead for himself, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "Did we find out who employed the Guns?"

"Unfortunately not. Just as you suspected, they covered their tracks exceptionally well. Intelligence suggests it was one of the local governments, but we have no solid evidence to accuse any of them. The best we can do is monitor the area for further developments and try to establish a pattern. Still, it's more than we had before. I doubt we've heard the last of whoever hired them. But more importantly, can you tell me who you worked for?"

Raymond shook his head. "I always worked for intermediaries. All I know is that it was some corporation. Someone with an interest in biological warfare."

"Alright. If you think of anything else, I'm sure the BSAA will be happy to listen," Parker assured, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"There's someone who wants to speak to you. I figured it'd be a third wheel," Parker joked with a smile, leaving the room. Raymond wracked his brain for who it might be who would visit him. Rachael was en route to America, so she couldn't be the one. Who would…

Raymond found himself meeting the gaze of a visor in place of eyes. A sense of confusion spread through him as CIPHER stepped into the room, silently closing the door as he sat down beside Raymond's bed. The man was once again in his uniform.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk," CIPHER explained flatly. "You were Rachael's partner, correct?"

"A pretty terrible one, but yes I was. Why do you-?"

"Why did you help the BSAA?"

"Because it was the right thing to do. I needed to make up for the things I'd done."

CIPHER regarded him quietly, and Raymond wished he could see the man's face to read his expressions. He decided to take the questioning into his own hands. "Why did you help them?"

"It was the best of a bad situation," CIPHER offered, not sounding entirely convinced.

"So why did you inject Rachael with the anti-t?"

CIPHER didn't seem to have an answer for that, and the silence dragged on as Raymond waited for an answer. Finally, CIPHER began to speak. "I once worked for Umbrella you know."

"So I heard."

"I was part of their internal security division. It was my job to kill things the company wanted dead, whether that was people or creatures. I did my job well."

Raymond listened intently as CIPHER continued. "Back then, the experiments were simple. The test subjects were often criminals or fellow scientists. Not much of a difference between the two now that I think about it. Made killing them rather easy in the end. After Umbrella was outed, I figured it'd be a good idea to get out of dodge before guys like you came after me."

"For a while, I bounced around this area, doing odd jobs for anyone who needed a hired gun. A lot of times, it was whacking some rich guy who upset the locales with their affluence. Really easy jobs. Hell, I even did some jobs helping bring Umbrella down. Didn't use my real name for those. It was kind of nice to tear down the corporation once it was the enemy."

"In these past years, I'd become sort of an anti-B.O.W. expert. People hired me when they needed B.O.W. dealt with. Sometimes that meant working for people who used them and wanted to control them. Other times, I helped organizations like TerraSave kill infected so that they could save people." CIPHER leaned back in his chair. "You notice things about the people you work with. Whenever I worked with TerraSave, folks were trusting, probably too much, and driven. You should have seen some of the nutjobs I worked with on the other side. Quite a few of them ended up dying by my work."

"Turns out when you're in the business of murder, the people you work with don't tend to be all that friendly. More than once, I was almost whacked by someone who didn't want me cutting in on their business. I kind of prefer not having that happen."

"All in the name of safety huh?" Raymond summarized flatly. CIPHER met Raymond's gaze as the two men tried to make the other blink.

"You're one to lecture."

"But I redeemed myself. And so did you." CIPHER fell silent once again, regarding his opponent.

"I suppose you're right," CIPHER admitted. "Feels kind of weird being the good guy after so long. But then again, we're not the good guys yet, are we?"

"Not yet. I don't know everything you've done, but it's not going to be forgotten anytime soon. But today was a start. We just have to change who we are one day at a time."

"I couldn't have phrased it better myself. You better heal quickly. I almost look forward to working with you. After we get finished serving time that is," CIPHER chuckled, standing up. Raymond laughed, watching the man go. Lying alone with his thoughts, he could only come to the realization that his life was about to become very different.

What allayed his fears was the realization that, just as he had told CIPHER, he had at last made up for his actions on the Zenobia. The last thing bothering him was knowing that somewhere out there, the organization that he had defected to was still at large, and if Jessica was any proof, they were able to get inside any organization. Even with how much he'd done for them, he'd never gotten close to their inner sanctum, only their proxies.

"Still...if we can track them down, we might be able to get them…" Raymond thought aloud. Nodding, he made up his mind. He would make it his number one priority to remember as many contacts as he could. If he couldn't dismantle his former employer, he could cripple them by taking out their connections. A wave of sleepiness hit him shortly after making the decision, and he decided it would be best to rest. It would be better to have a clear mind.

* * *

Rachael wondered if she might have been able to be diagnosed with a mild case of claustrophobia. The plane she was on felt entirely too small, especially given her more jagged frame. It didn't help that the barren metal walls reminded her too much of the room where he life had come to an end. The BSAA had apologized profusely for having to transport her in such a way, but it would be the quickest method at hand. She had just been eager to get to wherever it was she was needed.

Maybe a bit too eager.

She didn't actually know too much about where she was going. As far as she understood, she was headed to meet some contact within the US who would be able to help her. Rachael hadn't been able to get more than that, but she supposed it made sense to keep information to a minimum. Besides, she was preoccupied with questions about this contact.

Who were they? How could they help her? Her first thought was a doctor, but she quickly remembered that her particular strain had not yet been cured. What would they do if not cure her? Would it involve surgery? The thought of being cut up on a table did not sit well with her. She didn't think the BSAA would do that, especially after risking so much to bring her in alive. If they had wanted to autopsy her, they could easily have done so without that.

Try as she might, she couldn't come up with any answer to who she could be seeing. The only people she knew anymore in the world were either back in Serbia taking care of the mess her existence had caused, or in the BSAA. She supposed maybe it was someone from the organization, but she doubted it. The implication was that the contact was someone outside the BSAA. Rachael could only wait nervously as the plane flew across the expanse of ocean. It was odd to think that several hundred feet below her was the ocean; the same dark chasm that had claimed her. They might have even passed over the ship's resting place without realizing it.

The flight was fairly boring, but the few personnel assigned to watch over her did their best to make it not so unpleasant. She took the time to get the full run-down on everything that had occurred since the Zenobia. Her guards were more than willing to catch her up to speed and she found herself surprised at the amount of things that had happened. Particularly with regards to the events of Harvardville.

As the plane began setting down, Rachael could feel her stomach, or whatever organ existed in its place, rising with anxiety. Part of her wasn't yet convinced she was safe, and that these people still wanted to exploit her. Even if they did, though, she couldn't do anything now.

"We've arrived," the pilot announced over the intercom, and the door on the back of the craft hissed as its locks released. With the first crack of the door, light streamed in, enticing Rachael forward. Though she couldn't see the sun, _she could feel it_. It had been so long since she'd felt the sun on her skin…

She was halfway down the ramp before she realized that there were people watching. Turning with a startle, she sensed her present company. A ring of men, all armed but at ease encompassed the craft. Standing just a bit in front of her were two people, a man and a woman by the shape of them.

"You must be Rachael," the woman greeted. "It's nice to meet you."

"I am...who are you?"

"My name is Manuela Hidalgo, and this is my partner Leon. We're here to help you." Rachael "looked" over both quickly. The man was strong and fit, but otherwise normal…

But the woman was different. Something about her felt different. It was a sensation she had never felt before, and something about it put her at ease. It was familiar somehow. She spoke directly to the woman. "How are you going to help me?"

The woman raised a hand towards Rachael before drawing a combat knife. Rachael hissed defensively, and the man started reflexively, but the woman blocked him. Slowly, he drew the blade across her hand, and Rachael could smell the blood as it rose. She wasn't prepared for when heat sprung from the wound in what she recognized as flame, even without her sight. A hiss of surprise escaped her as she regarded the shorter woman. The woman clenched her hand, and Rachael could sense the deliberate, controlled motions of her body as she sealed the wound. "We want to help you. Will you come with us?"

* * *

I told you I heard something!

You are going to pay for this...


	12. Interlude 2

Interlude 2

"How are you today?"

Rachael shrugged tiredly in response to the kind woman's question. Over the past few days, Leon and Manuela had been helping her catch up with everything that had happened since her "disappearance," along with outlining the plans for both reintegrating her with society and working towards a point where she could help others.

The room itself was one that had been set aside for her housing and already there were a few touches provided to make it more comfortable. The first things added had been the furniture; chairs didn't agree with her, and anything hard tended to catch her bony protrusions and cause her discomfort. As such, all of the furniture was softer, with more give. Even so, they were all covered with fairly resilient materials, so that she didn't accidentally rip them up with one of her sharper edges.

Right now, she was curled up on the couch. After days of trying to get comfortable, she found that she was most comfortable when she curled tightly, almost forming a bony ball. All of her plates fit together better when she did, allowing her to lay down without having to be half raised off the couch or bed. Manuela had come in only a few minutes prior, bringing along a lunch for Rachael, apologizing for Leon's absence. He was apparently needed for the discussion with the BSAA, seeing as he had personal contacts in their ranks.

"I brought you something to eat," Manuela offered as she sat down at the table, picking her own foods off the tray. Rachael watched curiously as she ate. It seemed that her diet consisted mainly of fruits and vegetables, whereas the meals that kept Rachael sated tended to include rarer meat or vegetables that gave a lot of protein. She could barely taste anything she ate without difficulty, seeing as her body had rearranged her organs so that the only passage sufficient for actually eating was her proboscis. Her mouth still allowed her to breath and speak, but her tongue was useless beyond that. Still, she thought, it was better than being unable to communicate.

Unfolding herself, Rachael focused on getting up from the couch. Despite having her body for a while, she had only really just begun inhabiting it. Splaying her long toes, she carefully applied pressure onto the strange appendage, feeling her weight disperse across it. She did the same with the other foot, pushing to a stand. It took her a moment to balance herself, leaning slightly to the left to counterbalance the growths on her right leg, as well as her large right arm. She walked with a slight stutter step over to the table, opposite of Manuela. The smile she was given was one of gentle encouragement as she managed the overly large beanbag in order to situate herself at the table.

"I asked the cooks to try and include a little more punch to the food today," Manuela explained, pushing the tray towards Rachael. Rachael muttered a thanks before bringing the food close. The first time she had to eat, she had asked everyone to leave so they wouldn't see how she ate. Leon had confided to her shortly afterwards that everything was recorded, but he hadn't watched out of respect. Something about his honesty with her had earned her respect. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough. After that, she let Manuela and him stay in while she ate, but it had taken a few more days to break her out of the habit of apologizing beforehand, and even then, she quite often still did so.

Rachael tried to open her maw quietly, as the sound of her head splitting open was quite unpleasant as she lowered her proboscis towards the plate. Carefully, she smelled the plate, trying to figure out what has different. Immediately, she was hit with a wave of spice that almost made her recoil. Even so, the idea of something strong enough that she could actually smell it rather than the blood beneath did push her forward. Taking a bite, she found that she could feel the effects of the spice, even if they were muted compared to normal. Just being able to feel something while eating her food made Rachael perk up a little, and she began greedily devouring what was on the plate. As soon as the last of the meat had been consumed, Rachael sighed contentedly, finding a strange satisfaction in the slight burning in her head. Manuela chuckled slightly. "Did you like it?"

Rachael nodded and Manuela continued eating, allowing a peaceful silence to fall over the table. Idly, Rachael allowed one of her claws to trace the edge of the metal table. Most of the furniture that wasn't for comfort was made of metal, owing to her strength and ability to rip other materials apart with her claws. She allowed herself to numb her mind, focusing simply on the moment. Around her, she could feel the room, outlined in her senses. More presently, she could feel the hum of Manuela's body, mimicking her own.

Shortly after she had arrived at the base, she had become alarmed at the fact that she could "hear" other people's presence, even if they made no noise. It had taken a while for them to figure out what was going, but eventually they narrowed it down to a potential mutation related to the abyssal fish that the virus originated from. She had ignored the long digression afterwards, but what she had generally gathered was that she could sense people's electric fields. For most people, it was a slight hum that she could sense and generally tell where they were, but with Manuela, it was a pronounced sound and feeling that told her exactly where the other woman was.

"What are you thinking of doing today?" Manuela's question cut into Rachael's thoughts, and she "stared" blankly for a moment. "You don't have to stay in your room. The whole base is available to you."

Rachael nodded. She'd visited some of the other areas, but nothing really stuck out to her. So she had ended up passing most of her time in her room. "Come on, let's go somewhere."

It seemed Manuela wasn't having any of that. Though Rachael wouldn't have guessed it, Manuela was actually quite determined when she wanted to be. She knew that if it was ever too much though, that Manuela would let her go back and relax. Patiently, she waited by the door, while Rachael stood up and caught up with her. Manuela held the door before waving for her to follow.

Together the two walked through the base, passing various facilities. Rachael hadn't explored the place in its entirety, but plans went through, she'd likely be transferred over to the BSAA HQ after she had some time to stabilize. Still, as they walked, she was able to narrow down the list of possible locations that they could be visiting. Until there was only one: "The Garden."

The building itself was less of a garden, and more of a greenhouse situated in the large courtyard. It had been installed on a request from Manuela some time prior, since it was the closest thing to a home for her aside from some occasional visits to Leon's home. Rachael had never actually visited it, but she knew of its existence. As they approached, she could feel the slight pulse of the plants within, surprisingly strong. Rachael glanced at Manuela curiously, but she didn't respond as she lead the way.

Even with her thickened skin, Rachael could feel the heavy air rush to greet her, laden with moisture. Manuela hurried her inside, closing the door back up. For some inexplicable reason, Rachael felt as though the foliage around her was almost menacing in its presence.

"You can relax," Manuela assured, sensing her unease. Gently, she reached her hand up towards a bloom, stroking the petals gently. Rachael hissed as she felt the plant move in response, twisting its vines in response. The bloom itself opened wider, , revealing the sharper thorns hidden inside the petals.

"The Veronica virus borrowed heavily from a virus found in ants. Infected creatures form complex networks with other infected individuals," Manuela explained softly, passing her hand along the plants, which all moved to meet her touch. "It varies with each person, but the virus naturally wants to expand its grasp over things. In the case of Alexia, it infected insects, but my strain bonds more closely with plants. Don't worry, they won't hurt you. I have full control over them."

Manuela demonstrated by slowly raising her hand, the nearby plants mimicking the motion. Twisting her hand, the vines meshed together, forming a facsimile of her limb. She formed her hand into a fist, and the vines tightened, audibly crushing together. Manuela let her hand go slack, reaching to the plants, as if reassuring them before relinquishing her control. Rachael realized she hadn't taken a breath since Manuela's explanation. Manuela turned to her gently, smiling. Her whole energy seemed to have changed, a slightly melancholic vibe to it.

"After Leon brought me back to the states, life got better. I gained a lot of confidence and freedom. I got the chance to help others, including the man who saved me. Everything was going great." Manuela's smiled turned downwards. "The first time I came to the greenhouse, I couldn't help but feel...sad. When my father was facing the end, he fused with a massive flower from our greenhouse. The act caused him great pain and turned him into a monster. For a long time, I couldn't bear to be around the plants like I used to. When I was being kept by my father, the garden used to be my escape. I always felt stronger whenever I was around plants. Back then, I blamed it on being in a better mood, but I guess it was the virus drawing strength from the plants. It was terrible."

Manuela laughed mirthlessly. "Leon helped me again. At first, he didn't tell me, but he kept tending the greenhouse. He didn't want the plants to die off before I got a chance to enjoy them. After a while, he invited me to come help him, and though it took a while, we were able to work through the sadness I felt. Now, I come here whenever I want to remember the good in my father. The father who tried to save his wife and daughter, not the one who did the horrible things he did."

"Sorry, guess I kind of rambled there," Manuela apologized, snapping her head up with an apologetic shrug.

"It's alright. I didn't know about your father. I'm sorry to hear about it."

"He found peace in the end. I must admit, I had an ulterior motive asking you here. I wanted to ask about the other day, at the pool."

Rachael tensed visibly. It had been an honest mistake. During her tour of the base, she had been brought through the pool area. Her aquatic adaptations weren't unnoticed, so the staff had thought she might have liked to know. When she entered though, she felt a sudden sense of dread as she could practically feel the dense liquid, suddenly remembering the crushing pressure of the ocean depths. The sudden onslaught of memories had caused her to leave the room in a hurry, ripping a door from its hinges and nearly causing a base shut down in the process. Manuela noticed her tension immediately.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she added quickly. Rachael sighed, her impressive form slouching. For all her stubbornness, Manuela was quick to yield if it meant hurting someone without good reason.

"It's okay...the water just has an effect on me. Normally, I can't remember much from after I was infected and before I woke up in that shack in Serbia. But when I went into that room, I guess it must have been familiar, since a few memories came back to me."

"I think I get it. I admit, my situation wasn't anywhere near as bad as yours has been. The viruses...our viruses...have done terrible things. Unlike you, I was awake for the whole process. The worst I dealt with was some pain, but I dealt with it in my own ways. 'This pain' I thought 'tells me I'm still human. If I couldn't feel pain, I wouldn't be human anymore.' At the time, I thought my life was coming to an end. One moment, I'd be running with Leon and…" Manuela paused, her voice trailing off as she remembered the man she had barely known, but regretted having to kill. "And the next I'd no longer be me. Just another infected corpse with a bullet to the head. I wouldn't even be able to fault Leon if he had shot me, after fighting so long to keep me alive."

"It was when I was fighting my father that I first accessed my power. I defended Leon using my blood. It hurt, badly, but I was able to ignore it because I was fighting for my friends. In that moment, I was truly human. I fought with everything I had, even if it meant giving up my life, because then at least I'd die as a human."

"But not every fight is one that can be head on. When Leon was infected with the Plaga, I nearly gave up. The idea that I'd have to potentially put him down was almost too much. He never gave up hope that he could get it out of him, which was about the only thing keeping me sane. Still, I fought with everything I had in order to try and reach that goal, even though I couldn't do anything directly to help him. Even if you can't go into a fight guns blazing, you have to give it all you got, right?"

Rachael nodded, fully agreeing with the surprisingly wise words. Absently, she laid her hand on one of the planter tables, only to have one of the plants gently "pat" her hand. Jumping in surprise, she looked over at Manuela, who just chuckled. Rachael smiled, even as the muscles in her face protested the motion. "Yeah...I get what you're saying…"

"How about we go down by the river? It's just outside the gym. It's a nice place," Manuela offered. Rachael felt a little nervous about going near the water, but decided to accept anyway. If it was too much, they could always head back. Manuela gently touched her plants again, as if telling them to behave, before following Rachael out of the greenhouse, sealing the door behind them. Manuela took the lead again as the headed back into the building, working their way through the halls towards their destination.

Finally, they entered back into the open air, passing through the dark glass doors attaching the gym to the the courtyard space that fit between the curve of the river and the building itself. Both sides were lined with fence and Rachael noticed several cameras watching carefully. None of it seemed to bother Manuela as she headed down towards the river, humming to herself.

As they approached, Rachael could hear the calm sound of the river making its way as it always had. Despite her anxiety, the white noise calmed her and helped take the edge off as they drew nearer. Beneath her feet, Rachael could feel the damp grass, much cooler than the courtyard grass. The smell of the river reached her nose and she breathed deep, taking in the fresh air. The smell of the fresh water was so different from the ocean, or the controlled chlorine of the pool. It was pure and clean.

Soon, they reached the edge of the river, and Manuela sat down gently beside it, slipping her shoes off to dip them in the water. Rachael wasn't so quick and instead sat a small distance away, just enjoying what she could of the experience. "Where did you live growing up?"

Rachael was caught off guard by the question, and had to think for a moment before answering. "My family's lived on the East Coast for a long time. We lived further inland though, so I didn't deal with water all that often. Still, when the opportunity to learn how to scuba came up, I was really excited. Guess that's what got me here. I was one of the few qualified to deal with a water mission, despite my amateurity, so I got sent on that damn mission."

Realizing she had gotten off track, she refocused. "I had a sister growing up, and we were really close. She was the one who got me into the job. She was working with TerraSave last time I checked."

"Have you tried talking to her?" Manuela asked politely. Rachael shook her head.

"I don't want her to see me like this."

"She wouldn't have to see you. Just hear your voice, maybe talk a bit. You'd be surprised how easy it is to talk to someone once you get started."

Rachael nodded in thought. The idea was tempting, and she was sure that Manuela knew what she was talking about, but the idea that she might have to explain to her sister what had happened to her was still terrifying. Briefly, she thought of her parents, wondering how'd they'd take it. She doubted she'd ever be able to face them, even if she used her affliction for good. It would just be too much for them.

At the same time, Rachael realized, they would continue not knowing that their daughter was still alive. Some day, her missions would be publicized as Manuela's had, and they would find out then. Some day she would have to face them. It would be better to do so on her terms. And starting with her sister was as good a place as any.

"Alright..." she agreed quietly. Manuela didn't say anything, simply sitting patiently. Gently, she patted the ground next to her. Rachael obliged, sitting beside her. Cautiously, she put her feet in the water. She knew that the water might have felt cold to other people, but to her it was warm. Cautiously, she flexed her toes, feeling the long, muscular digits push through the water like a knife. All awkwardness in their design was gone once she was in her element. Taking a deep breath, she felt her tension dissipate, almost painfully. She realized the toll the stress and fear had taken on her body. She could feel almost every wound she had sustained, even though the actual flesh itself was healed.

But the pain meant she was still human. If she didn't feel it, she would have been no better than those monsters that had chased her and, ultimately, killed her. She could live on, and learn to deal with the pain. It would hurt, but she could do it.


End file.
